Sara

She sighed, blowing her hair out of her eyes. Which one should she get? She swore she had to have been standing in the middle of that aisle for at least five minutes. She had thousands of other worries in the world, so why was she so hung up on which bag of chips she should buy? Finally, after what felt like hours, she threw a random bag into her cart and took off. There was no way she was going to spend any more time down that aisle. But as she ran out, she nearly bumped into someone with her cart. She was such a clutz, it was embarrassing. “Oh, I'm sorry, I should’ve-” She froze, unable to say a word. Every memory, every feeling, it all came back, right then and there.

“J-Jotaro?” He looked different. Really different. His hair was shorter and he looked more clean, minus the dark eyebags, of course. “Jotaro, is that really you?” She tilted her head, confused why he wasn't saying anything. “Dada? Who’s that?” She looked down to find a little girl pulling on Jotaro’s sleeve. She kneeled down to the little girl’s level and stuck out her hand. “I'm y/n. What’s your name, sweetpea?” “I'm Jolyne!” She looked up at Jotaro, who was refusing to make eye contact, and back at Jolyne. “Nice to meet you, Jolyne!” “Are you dada’s friend?” “Uh,” she looked up at him again, noticing a sad look in his eyes. “We used to be… yeah.” “You’re pretty! Dada! Dada! I didn't know you had pretty friends! Can she be my new mama?!” Jotaro looked down at his daughter, shock in his eyes. “No, Jolyne, she can't be your new mama. You still have a mama.” “I know… but-” “Come on, Jolyne.” “But-” “Not buts. Come on.” “You didn't even say hi to your friend.” Jotaro went to pull her away, but Jolyne stood her ground. “We’re not leaving until you say hi.” Jolyne crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip. Jotaro groaned and turned towards her, his eyes looking at her for a second before averting away. “Hi. Come on, Jolyne.” Jolyne looked satisfied and waved at her. “Bye pretty lady! Daddy, can she come over?” “No, Jolyne.”

She didn't realize how distant her and the rest of the Stardust Crusaders had become. It was heartbreaking, really. She remembers making Jotaro laugh so hard that milk shot out from his nose. She remembers Kakyoin trying to convince Jotaro that Princess Peach was hot. She remembers Avdol trying to get her and Jotaro together. What happened to that? They used to be fun loving kids… and now they were adults. Apparently Jotaro was married and had a kid now? Why wasn't she or Polnareff invited to the wedding? It just felt like everything they had just disappeared.

“Daddy? Can I get this?” Jolyne held up some brown stuffed bear with a bright smile on her face. “Don't you have that at your mom’s house?” Jotaro pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a long, deep breath. “Yeah, but I want it here!” “You can just bring it when you visit me.” Jolyne sighed and put it back. “Okaaaaay. Hey! It's your pretty friend, dada!” Jolyne ran up to her and wrapped her arms around her leg. “Can she please come over?! I wanna show her my dolphin.” She looked at Jotaro apologetically, trying to pull the feral child off of her leg. “Jolyne, get off of her. Look,” for the first time through the entirety of her shopping spree, Jotaro looked her in her eyes. “I'm sorry about her. She takes after her-” “Yeah, she definitely takes after her dad.” She giggled as Jolyne got distracted by something else. “I meant to say her mom, but…” Jotaro chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess she does kinda take after her dad, huh?” “Oh yeah. She has your eyes too.” She looked into Jotaro’s eyes with a smile. Those beautiful blue eyes. She couldn't believe she lost those after all these years. “It's a little unfortunate though,” Jolyne ran up to Jotaro, jumping in his arms. “She’s not around all that often. She lives with her mom full time, she only visits me every once and a while. It's hard though with my job and all the traveling I do. Plus her mom lives in America and… I'm rambling, aren't I?” Jolyne pulled off his hat and put it on herself. “No, you’re not. I… missed talking to you, Jotaro.” “I missed you.” “Who’s Jolyne’s mom, anyway?” “Oh, you wouldn't know her.” She hummed in response, watching as a hatless Jotaro bounced his daughter in his arms. “You know,” she chuckled and picked a fuzz off of Jotaro’s shirt. “I think after all this time of knowing you, I haven't seen you once without your hat.” “Oh, I know. A rare occurrence for Dr. Kujo.” “Dr.?” “Oh my god, has it been that long?!” She tilted her head. “I got a PhD… in Marine Biology.” “Really?! That's so awesome, Jotaro!” She subconsciously threw her arms around the back of his neck into an embrace and he immediately melted to her touch. “Thank you.” She couldn't help but hold onto him a little longer. He still smelled the same. After all these years, he didn't really change. That’s what she loved about him. And even after all these years, she still loved him.

In the middle of the hug, she felt a little hand reach out and pat her on the back. She looked up to find Jolyne with a bright smile on her face, still in Jotaro’s arm. “Dada, you should get her a super fancy dinner. She’s pretty.” Jotaro slightly pushed her away, blushing, but trying to cover it with his hat that he took back from Jolyne. “Good grief, Jolyne.” She giggled, which in turn made Jolyne giggle. “Well Jotaro,” she waved and turned towards her cart. “I'll see you later. It was really nice to see you again. Brought back a lot of good memories.” She didn't let him see the disappointed look on her face. She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay with him forever. They had the good shit: shared trauma. She wanted him back in her life. But he had a family now. He clearly moved on. Maybe she should’ve too.

Then you immediately tamper that thought—hah! You must be kidding yourself; as if you’d be meeting your fated mate through this.

You let slip a slight chuckle out of sheer ridiculousness, which you instantly stifle after catching the slightly-concerned look on Shoko’s face (honestly, she looked like she was contemplating numerous other exams to conduct on you instead). 

Shaking your head, you urge her to continue. Which she does so methodically: coating either side of your neck - where your scent glands were - with some scentless blue gel, placing both cotton pads on those spots, jotting down something on her clipboard whilst she waited.

You were likely her nth college student of the day, and she sighed like it was so.

You knew that most of the others in your department had already contributed their pheromones to this program - why wouldn’t they? It was perfect.

The hot-pink flyer had just shown up one day. Smack-bang in the middle of the campus bulletin. Surrounded by club notices and weekly warning about suppressors and a froth of students and teachers alike that crowded around the strange new addition to their familiar wall of words: THE SCENT COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM—SEEKING SCENTS (ALPHAS AND OMEGAS WELCOME). ¥50,000 PER SWATCH.

It boasted itself as some revolutionary new form of pheromone therapy, a way for unpaired alphas and omegas to share their scents with each other. To match-make, almost. And during those times of need, the organization would provide those partners with batches of scent-doused clothes to ease them through their needy heats and ruts. Those days when even smelling a member of the other secondary gender would help with those carnal pangs n’ twitches.

Some people joined the program out of sheer good will, some with the desire that perhaps this will lead them to their ‘fated mate’ - those almost mythical Prince Charmings and Princesses and everyone in-between that was to be one’s soulmate. The other half of your heart, soul, body. Two scents in such perfect harmony that they became one.

Most did it for the money.

Honestly, you get it.

But it looked too good to be true—fifty-thousand yen? You’d cautiously waited a few days after noting down the number on the flyer, doing your own research (all the reviews online were raving, surely that was rigged?)

Before finally - finally - it’d taken your landlord hiking up the price of your already-shabby, already-overpriced apartment over some ‘fixes’ (nothing was fixed), your second-hand washing machine breaking down, your bus being late, and your favorite boyband going on hiatus for you to cave and dial that number.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

And so here you were - seated statue-still as Shoko finished counting down on her watch and removed the cotton pads. They were now layered thick with your pheromones, wafting, and she squeezed them gently into a sterilized test tube.

“That’s that. Thank you for your contribution to The Scent Companionship Program.” She stated, and tapped her clipboard - filled with what, you weren’t sure. “Your swatched pheromones will be sent to our labs and examined thoroughly before being scent-tested against the alphas that our findings determine to be the most suited for your scent- I see here that you have opted out of the choice to scent-test against alpha scents yourself, is that right?”

“Oh- yeah.” You say, buttoning up your shirt- honestly, you only half-remembered all those menial technical details on the mountain of forms you’d filled out.

Shoko hums, expectedly she asked these questions a lot. “Right, and you understand that this means you will not be choosing your own alpha? You won’t smell the alpha’s scent to test compatibility. However the alpha shall choose you based on their compatibility with your scent?”

“Ah…” Well, when she put it like that…However, deciding that re-filling out all those monstrous forms was far too much trouble than it was worth (after all, if you ended up disliking the scent of your partner, you could simply not use those clothes during your heat), you only smile sheepishly. “I ah- I trust you guys enough.”

“Well, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” You swear you could spot the beginnings of a smile on her deadpan face. “At Kamo Pharmaceuticals, we are the best of the best. And we’re proud to say we have a 99.99999% success rate in helping find suitable partners for both parties.”

“Wonderful.” You nod, as she finishes her recitation. Before fidgeting, “And about the uh-”

“The ¥50,000 will be handed to you at the reception.” Shoko smiles, knowingly. “You’ll be contacted in the coming weeks by one of our representatives regarding your scent match.”

And with that, she leads you fluidly out of her office. And just before you’re set to leave- “But, off the record-” You turn, somewhat surprised at her sudden conversation. “-do trust us. We really do excel in helping people find their perfect match. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be someone you don’t even expect.”

You smile, “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

But, really, you did wonder what sort of alpha would be paired with you.

.

.

.

“No- not for me.” Choso jerks back as fast as he’d leaned in, his nose crinkling with slight distaste. And then over the other tube, “Not this one, either.”

And he lets the bespectacled medical assistant pull away both vials of pheromones from underneath his nose, the seventh (maybe eight, maybe ninth, he’d lost count) scent that he was testing just today itself - and, yet again, it wasn’t a match. 

No matter what their research told them.

Shoko sighs tiredly and looks down at her clipboard, and Choso thinks he could hear the familiar scritch-scratch of her crossing out yet another prospective match.

It’d been like this ever since they established The Scent Companionship Program.

His father, Itadori Jin, had insisted on his eldest son being one amongst the many contributors to it. Patient Zero—‘How can we expect our customers to trust our product if even we don’t trust our product’ he’d said. And Choso had thought that it was a fair enough argument. 

At first.

He just didn’t think he’d end up being the 0.00001% that hadn’t found his perfect scent match yet.

Patient Zero and still hopelessly inflicted- he was starting to think he didn’t even have a match. Maybe his secondary gender was too picky, maybe it has something to do with him being a prime alpha (just the slightest step above your average alpha, said to be more dominant, apparently destined to be alone with the way that things were going).

But honestly, Choso didn’t even need someone else’s scent to get through his ruts - they weren’t even that strong!

But, alas, he knew that his father would be bouncing in his seat by the next family get-together. Asking him how his scent-testing has been going so far. Tutting with that disappointed look on his face if he ever said that he’d given up on it. Mumbling something about grandkids and ‘oh woe is me’ and- you get the point.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

And though it killed Choso to take even half an hour off of work to test omega scents, he still did it anyway. Leaned back against Shoko’s examination chair, he grumbles. “Honestly, at this rate I’m never going to find a match, Shoko. We might as well give up…”

“What- and have your father storm my office like last time?”

Dammit, it was worth a shot.

So Choso settles himself without (much) complaint as Ijichi reaches inside the cooler of vials once more. His gloved hand picks out what seemed to be the last of the bunch, a tiny concentration of colorless perfume at the bottom of it, an unreadable name tag at the top. “W-with this we’re done for today, Mr. Kamo.” The jumpy man says; even after a near-year spent in close proximity to him, scent-testing every day like clockwork, the assistant still was anxious around the young CEO.

Biting back a grin, Choso nods. It was going to be a trial like any other, like the countless before it. 

Ijichi would flash a cautiously hopeful grin and uncork the glass tube, he would then let the pheromones waft for a few seconds, before bringing it under his boss’s nose. And then it would get sniffed, winced, and rejected in just a few seconds. Except—

Except that doesn’t happen this time.

In fact- it doesn’t even begin to happen. Because Ijichi struggles ever-so-slightly with the tight lid, finally managing to squeeze open the vial just the barest crack. The smallest.

And Choso Kamo felt like he’d just been struck by lightning.

He gasps. He closes his eyes. Then immediately snaps them open again just so he could heave in that refreshing scent pouring out of the vial like a whirlwind. A summer’s day. A beaming sun. A valley of strawberries. The ripeness of the fruit. The sweetness whence you bite into it.

And he was swept up in it with every whiff.

Choso’s large, clammy palm opens up and grasps the sugary air as if to hold onto something - to hold onto you. And he’s feeling the cold floor before he realizes it- he’d stumbled towards the pheromone swatch, knees weak, body moving before his mind.

Shoko’s at his side in an instant, “What is it? Do you feel something? Could this be-” Her breath hitches. “-could this be the one?”

Choso wants to shake his head - no, it’s just a fluke, it’s just his fatigue from overworking, it’s just—but he knew it. His body knew it. And every single fiber of his being would rather have him pass out right then, right there, than deny the obvious effect that this scent had on him.

It was calling to him.

The alpha’s chest vibrates, and he reaches out one trembling hand in the general direction of Ijichi. A low growl escaping from him- Choso can’t even control it, some primal part of himself had to make his point clear.

That vial of pheromones: he wanted it. Now. 

The other man yelps, urgently moving to hand him the tube-

“No-” Shoko interrupts, and she waves off the black-haired man. Before turning back to her boss, “I’m afraid we can’t give it to you when you’re in this state, Mr. Kamo. You’re-”

“Give it to me.”

She shudders. Despite the two of them being betas, unaffected by most pheromones, a prime alpha still had that instinctual superiority. That dominance. That voice. 

And she almost has half the mind to reach over and give him that vial herself, before she slaps herself out of it. Holding onto Choso’s broad shoulders as if to shake him out of it, too– “Listen- Choso, listen to me.” She mutters in alarm, “We can’t give you the vial when you’re in this state.”

“Give it to me.”

“Don’t you understand?” She shares a look with Ijichi, who’d come to the very same realization that she had. And the man gasps. “You’re in the early stages of rut-”

Choso jolts.

Rut? Now? Here? Like this? He blinks his bleary vision back into focus, it’s as if the office room was spinning. And it takes him a few seconds to raise his nose in the air and sniff - Ijichi had quickly closed the test tube at this point - to recognize the soft, vanilla-like smell of his own scent gusting out. It’s never been this strong before.

This needy.

Never. 

And it was way before his schedule, too. He wasn’t due for another few weeks - did your mere scent throw him into rut?

Choso clutches onto the collar of his suit like a lifeline, loosening his tie- fuck, his entire body felt like it was sizzling in the aftermath of your pheromones. Though with your fragrance now safely locked away once more, he could feel himself cooling more or less back into normalcy.

Taking the time to gulp back the saliva rapidly filling up his mouth, he somehow manages to strangle out. “Who- haaah, who is it?”

And then Ijichi stutters out a name.

Such a beautiful, beautiful name. And Shoko’s eyes seem to widen in slight recognition.

“Arrange a meeting for me immediately.” He declares, taken aback himself by how demanding he was being. Choso Kamo was never quite dominant for an alpha. Was never quite a go-getter like the way most others his secondary gender was.

But right now he felt wound up. Fit to burst.

And Shoko nods agreeably, “It would be best for both parties if we do so before your upcoming rut - which seems to be quite soon. That was a close call.” She turns to Ijichi, “Please notify the communications department- stat.”

“O-on it.”

There’s the slamming of a door, and it sounds like it’s from miles away. The only thing that Choso could focus on right now was the faint traces of your scent that lingered in the room, like a memory. An after-image. The existence of you, in all your reality.

Were you the one he’d been waiting for?

He huffs out a chuckle to himself, “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

And though the question wasn’t for her, Shoko nods anyway. 

But he thinks he could see, from the edge of his still-blurred peripheral vision, that she was smiling.

.

.

.

You know, at first you thought you were being arrested for something.

The group of suit-clad men had showed up at your doorway the first thing in the morning. So large that they filled out the entire frame, and you felt locked inside despite having the front door wide open. They briefly confirmed your identity, after which you were informed that they were part of The Scent Companionship Program and a meeting had been arranged for you to meet your paired partner today.

“I- I thought they were going to call me?” You’d questioned after getting yourself refreshed and ready. Pulling on the comfiest sweater you could find, you balk at the Herculean group that led you out of your apartment and into the corridor. The narrow hallway felt even stuffier with this group of betas surrounding your every side, like some unsolicited band of bodyguards.

“Circumstances have changed.” One of them answered, holding the building door open for you. It almost felt good, you can’t lie - like a celebrity with your own personal escorts.

Pushing aside obstacles for you, leading you carefully down the stone steps of your apartment and into a damn limousine parked outside.

Even the doormen themselves were gaping openly at the vehicle - this part of town was usually never graced with such luxurious cards. All black with tinted windows. Gleaming like a star. A badge on the front bumper that you didn’t have the time to scrutinize properly, yet seemed to be in the shape of Kamo Pharmaceuticals logo.

There was an official air around the limousine, even more so than a usual one, and you admired the plush, cream-colored interior as you got inside. The escorts followed, forming a protective circle around you- “So…I presume I won’t be getting any hints about who my match is any time soon?” You attempt to lighten the mood.

And a few of them actually nod, “We’re afraid not, madam.”

“But rest assured-” One of them half-smiles, “-you won’t be disappointed.”

A part of you sure hoped you wouldn’t be. And by the crackle of excitement in the air, you doubted you would.

It was a quick ride to the organization building, it’s as if the traffic parted for the car, and you weren’t quite sure why. After being escorted out and checking in at the reception, you’d expected to be led back to the same clinical office you had been in last time.

But instead, the bodyguards (could you call them that now? They certainly felt as such) punched in the button for the highest floor on the elevator. And you quickly found yourself in a rich meeting room, on opposite ends of a dark mahogany table with a man. 

An alpha.

And even from here, you could smell the faint whiffs of his deep scent, kept under wraps of his suit collar. Just the faintest traces - they told you he wasn’t just any alpha. He was a prime alpha.

Though, he certainly didn’t give the impression at first glance.

Sure, he had an imposing frame - his suit snugly outlining his well-built shoulders, his trim waist, and the way that his biceps flexed each n’ every time he clenched his fist. In tension, perhaps? Or worry? He certainly looked worried: dark brows furrowed, plump lips worried under his teeth.

It was obvious that he was someone important. And honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever seen an alpha that looked so pretty.

So, so pretty.

There was a certain delicacy in his features. Sharp but fragile. Lashes enviously long. Doey eyes turned downwards. He fidgeted with the curls at the end of his long hair, reaching past his shoulders in the glossiest chocolate color. 

Practically jumping out of his seat once the personal assistant (his younger brother, actually, Eso) behind him clears his throat-

“Oh-” Choso snaps his head behind, as if remembering where he was. He’d brought Eso with him for moral support- fuck, he could barely even look you in the eyes once you entered the room. Just knowing he won’t be able to rip them away.

And as the other man urges him to go on, Choso clears his throat finally - finally - staring at you head-on. “Forgive my rudeness, today’s just been…a lot, you know?”

“Tell me about it.” You faintly chuckle, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful melody he’s ever heard. Choso had been careful to wear two round bandages over his glands - scent suppressors - before meeting you, just knowing he’d be going out of control otherwise.

You introduce yourself and he does the same- “Choso Kamo. Please just call me ‘Choso.’”

“Kamo?” Your eyes bulged, and you tried not to sound too rude. “Kamo Kamo? Like- Kamo Pharmaceuticals Kamo?”

He cracked a grin, “Well- yes. One of my own personal endeavors. I always did love the medical factor, though I majored in business.”

Oh damn. “I- I see.”

“And what about you?”

“Ah, just in college. Trying to get that degree.” You explain a little about your own major, and he listens with such rapt attention that one might think you were telling him the truths of the universe. “It’s actually on campus that I saw a flyer for the program, I just never expected I’d be meeting you so soon.”

His eyes twinkle, “And I never expected I’d be meeting you.”

Silence falls. With the two of you shyly attempting to drink in the other’s appearance, the other’s scent, without making it seem as if you were doing so.

Though it was apparently more than obvious Eso who just had a way of melting into the background, making himself known whenever things had to be hurried along.

“A-hem—”

“So-” Choso starts, “About the ah- program.” And instantly you’re at attention, leaning forwards despite the fact that his low voice carried over to where you were sitting. “To be quite frank with you, I never expected to meet my match.”

You nod, as if in understanding.

“And I have to tell you that my rut will be starting soon.” 

“Oh.”

He looks at you, intently. “Very, very soon.”

“Oh.”

Choso runs a hand through his hair, “Honestly, I fear that if I’m inside this room for a second longer, I might just start my rut right now.” But he hastens to explain- “Don’t worry- I have my brother here for that very reason, you’re safe here.”

And you ask, “So…how ah- long does your rut usually last? I’m aware that I have to keep providing you with pheromone samples as long as it does.”

He looks at you squarely, “Ten days.”

You balk—ten days? Most normal alphas lasted four days, maybe five. And if it was a prime alpha then they might just last a week - but ten days? Oh, you almost started feeling sorry for whoever was fated to be with Choso Kamo- before you promptly remembered that he was unpaired, and that you were the one he was scent-matched with.

It didn’t meet you were fated to be together, but still…

Choso squirms slightly at your open-mouthed silence, “Yes, I’m aware that it’s slightly erm- above average.” That was putting it lightly. “But trust that I will not overwork you, or overstep, and that you’re free to opt out any second you want to - just say the word.”

You nod, still slightly hesitant.

“And I promise that you will be compensated for every single day.” He beckons over Eso, and hands him a slip of paper - which his assistant walks over to hand to you.

And if your mouth was open earlier, then it practically unhinges at the paper - the cheque - that Choso breezily gave you. The sheer amount of zeroes. The sheer amount in general that might just be the biggest number you’ve seen on a cheque in your entire life—

“Oh- don’t worry, that’s just the advance.” Choso says, taking your silence for dissatisfaction.

“No no-” You hurry to explain, “It’s more than enough. Honestly, I can’t even accept this- please take it back and I can-”

“Please. Take it.” He firmly denies. Before a sudden blush takes over his face, and you watch in awe as the ruby-red rouge dusts over the tips of his ears, down to his high cheekbones, and then down the back of his neck. And he gingerly scratches behind it- “If possible- and- and only if you’d want, could I have ah…” He points somewhere at your figure.

“My…” You point at your chest, before realizing and tugging at your sweater. “Oh, this?”

Nodding you stand to give it to him, but Choso’s brother hastily stops you to hand it over to him himself. Realizing the effect that you had on his older brother.

The way he’d all but shatter if he got too close.

And Choso has to fight not to bury his face in the sweater the moment it’s handed to him. Thanking you fervently, “You’re helping me- so much.” He peeks at you through his long lashes. “So much more than you know.”

.

.

.

FIRST DAY OF RUT.

Expectedly, Choso had been thrown into his rut sooner than expected. In fact- the very second that you’d left the meeting room, and he’d gotten a chance to bury his face in your strawberry-sweet scent.

The very instant.

Your contacts had been exchanged, and you got a text from him soon after about meeting up the next day. Quickly arranging for your next exchanging spot to be in his office, where there were enough of his employees around so that Choso would be less inclined to make a fool of himself (it seems that even a rut couldn’t stop the young CEO from sticking to his workaholic schedule, and when you’d expressed concern in your texts, he simply told you that he wasn’t as affected by it, this was routine for him, a minor inconvenience).

You walked through the steely building, reminiscent of where you’d gone to get your pheromones swatched for the program. 

“Hey there-” You say to the receptionist as you enter, and a few employees stare at you as they pass, an unfamiliar face in their lobby. “I’m here to meet Choso? Choso Kamo?”

She eyes you up and down, “Hah! Nice try, was this set up by that uncle of his?”

“No?”

“Oh- his father, maybe?”

“No? Not him either.” You sigh, holding up the bag of another one of your sweaters, and a scarf too - all doused with your pheromones, wafting. “Look, I’m just here to hand off a few things he needs. I’ll be in and out- you can even call him to confirm, so please, if you could help me.”

She takes one look inside the bag and sniffs, “Okay now I know you’ve been put up to this by that damn uncle of his-”

“I haven’t been put up to this by anyone but Choso himself-” You hiss, feeling the frustration bubble up in your body.

And the receptionist had far gone from skepticism to irritation now, she stares you down as she picks up the handheld telephone on her desk. Presumably to call security, what with the way she was eyeing you, and you almost contemplate walking out of this building right now and forgetting you were ever part of a stupid scent program in the first place before-

A call of your name.

“Choso!” You whip around with relief. You find the very man standing a fair distance away from you in the lobby- it seems he’d just gotten out of the now-closing elevator. 

His projected voice had every eye downstairs on the two of you now - who knew their soft-spoken boss could raise his voice like that? And look so melty, so shy like that? Just who were you?

They snapped their heads as if watching a tennis match as the two of you raise your arms in greeting, and walk to each other. A short distance before stopping- and Choso quickly puts on a white mask designed specifically to block out pheromones.

And it killed him, oh it killed him to watch Eso close the gap with you instead. To watch you smile at him as you handed over the bag, to nod at something in conversation as he gave you a cheque-

“Choso.”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the very sound of his brother’s voice, and only then does Choso realize that he’d been growling. Canines bared. Face snarled.

At none other than the fact that his brother was interacting with you where he couldn’t lest he lose control—fuck, this year’s rut really was driving him crazy. And Choso shakes his head to clear his mind, which only partly works with the way you were smiling at him patiently.

He still felt giddy, and cups his mouth through the mask. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” You call back, making your way out of the building now. And he watches you through every single step, until you were nothing but a speck in the horizon, and even then he watches as you vanish. As if you were never there, other than the weight of the bag that was being pushed into his hands—

“You’re fucked, bro.” Eso snickers.

“I know.” Choso replies, looking down inside. And even with the mask on, the softly sweet scent of your pheromones reaches him, cools down his body, makes him sigh. “Oh, don’t I know.”

.

.

.

SECOND DAY OF RUT.

THIRD DAY OF RUT.

FOURTH DAY OF RUT.

The first two days of Choso’s rut had proceeded exactly as the first one had. It was methodical, almost; arrive at the reception, be greeted by Eso (and Choso, from a distance), hand over the bag of clothes you’d scented with your glands just earlier, and get handed a fat cheque in return.

It was easy, really. And you almost began to wonder whether this was how the rest of the ten days would carry out. 

But oh—oh, you should have known better than to think that the universe would make it so easy for you. As if you were getting off that easy.

On the fourth day of stepping inside the lobby area (the receptionist had grown used to you by now, half-believing that you really weren’t some prank set up by Choso’s infamous uncle) your phone vibrated with a new message - one from Choso that told you to come up to his office this time, it seemed that he was overloaded with work, and Eso had called in sick today.

And with no one else close enough to him that was available to trust with your scent swatches, he had no choice but to meet you himself. In his office. A confined space. All alone.

Choso was practically ripping at his hair, wondering what he’d just done, when the stand-in for Eso knocked at his door and said there was someone to meet him.

“L-let her in.” He barely squeaked out, straightening up immediately.

And you yourself were raging with an internal battle - everyone in the office seemed to know you. At least, they seemed to know of you.

They balked once those elevator doors had pinged open, and you stepped out. Then started the stares. Then started the whispers.

‘Wait- wait, is that really the one? So Linda from reception really wasn’t lying- oh, she’s more gorgeous than she said.’

‘This is the boss’s beau? You know, I thought he was celebate but they say she gives him a bag of her more…scandalous attire every morning to the boss as a pick-me-up.’

‘Really? I heard that she’s why the boss has been spending more time cooped up in his office- yes, they’re planning to elope to Switzerland, some sort of luxury ski resort wedding. I don’t think his uncle Sukuna’s invited, no-’

Your skin prickled with embarrassment and bewilderment as you made your way through the throng of gossiping employees. They parted for you, and it almost felt like walking down the aisle.

Straight to the largest office of them all: Choso’s.

Who was waiting for you impatiently- “Ah-” He flinched as you entered, looking around urgently for his mask before- oh, fuck, he realized. Eso had the entire pack with him. 

And Choso could do nothing but knit his hands together on top of his table, right beside the flashing gold nameplate of ‘CEO CHOSO KAMO’. His heart thundered, and his fingertips shook ever-so-slightly as he gestured to the seat in front of him. “P-please.”

“Oh! Thank you, but it’s okay.” You wave off, “I’m really just here to give you ah- this-”

You push the bag into his arms, and you swear both your bodies are zapped with something electric as your fingertips brushed while handing over. Your breath caught- you’d never seen him this close before.

And Choso Kamo was even prettier then.

Still seated, he stared up at you with sparkling eyes - something like awe in them. Something like adoration. And those plush, pink lips of his parted—

Before he immediately took in a whiff of your saccharine scent and blushed.

Turning away immediately, “Th-thank you.” He busied himself opening and closing his desk drawers, searching furiously for something inside. “Now let me just get your-”

“No no, it’s okay.” You insist, “You’ve been compensating more than you should, honestly. And the program isn’t supposed to have you pay like this-”

“I do it because I want to.” He stares up at you once more. Shorter this time. Breathy. Like this mere contact with you had him worked up like he just ran a mile.

And as you’re distracted by the spikes of gold in his hazel irises, Choso pushes a cheque into your palm. “For you.” Before he stands up, and oh—you almost have to stumble back. Because you knew that he was tall by his frame, but ah, was he tall. So well built that it didn’t matter what your own height was, he still managed to make you feel small. “Let me escort you out- with your scent so saturated in here, I might just go insane. And I don’t have Eso around this time so, hah…”

But it didn’t sound like much of a joke.

You languidly walk to the towering door of his office, the whispering chaos of outside still sibilating. It felt like a world away.

He reaches for the door, “Let me just-”

“Oh no, I can-”

Several things happen at once. Choso angles his sculptured body to open the door for you, you’d already been aiming to open the door for yourself. Thus, with his well-timed equation, what ended up happening instead was that you’re pinned against the door.

Both your hands on top of the frigid handle. Choso’s leaned-in body looming against yours. Both of your chests bumping against each other- he hoped you wouldn’t be able to make out the pounding mess of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump–!

Your own heart stutters, and something about this heated proximity made you feel slightly dizzy. Slightly drunk on his presence. 

And, moving on instinct, you tilt your head into where the curve of his pale neck was. Prominent Adam’s apple of his bobbing. Ready to just inch in - just inch in - and sniff the scent simmering under his collar—

Before you realize just what you’re doing and stumble backwards.

Startling Choso’s hand off of the door handle - that tense moment from before was in fragments now. “I uh-” Your eyes glance to the door, “-thank you for leading me out, I can make my own way from here.” And you make to bow- what? You make to wave, you make to stammer out your goodbyes before you can kiss him goodbye- stop thinking like that.

In a few seconds, you’ve flung open the door. Pacing right outside, “Just text me when you need me next!” Calling out over your shoulder, even though that likely calls more attention to your pairing. You leave Choso Kamo standing at his doorway, dazed, as you leave.

Though a part of you wanted to go back…

No- you maze through the walls of peeking employees, barely even noticing who you have to dart around to get to the safety of the elevator.

Though, if you had, you might have recognized a certain pink-haired, middle-aged man from all those business magazines at the convenience store that you’d pick up but ultimately never read. 

Staring at you through his glasses- and then immediately to his flustered son still standing outside his office.

Itadori Jin murmurs, emotions unreadable. “An omega. Leaving my son’s office. On office hours while everyone else is working-” He flares his nostrils to smell the air: the boredom of work, the anticipation of hot gossip, the excitement, the nervousness, the need. 

Jin could smell your strawberry pheromones, and the creamy vanilla aftertaste of his son’s trailing after yours. As if in pursuit. “-he’s having a scandalous dalliance. Why- my own son, my own successor- I’ve never been so- so-”

Choso strides over to Jin and attempts to calm him down, “Dad, I can explain. I was just-”

“-proud.”

The younger man gapes, “What?”

“I am so proud of you, my son.” His father claps him on the back, “Why- I thought the day would never come, I thought you’d end up single forever like that ol’ brother of mine. So the program worked? So you aren’t completely maidenless, like all the kids say these days. Yuji taught me that, and oh- he’s going to be so happy for-”

“Dad. Please. Stop talking.”

.

.

.

FIFTH DAY OF RUT.

SIXTH DAY OF RUT.

“Y’know-” You start off, inside Choso Kamo’s office for the third time since you started helping him with his rut. Though - unlike that first time - he now had a mask on, and Eso stationed steadily behind him after his brief leave.

And as Choso raises a brow, urging you to continue, you flick your gaze to the wall of his office with a chuckle. “-you really should consider getting blinds or something.”

All three of you look at the faces pressed against the glass wall of his office, tinted; though that didn’t stop the most determined of employees from trying to pry into their boss’s personal life (you didn’t dare call it his love life, though you knew the rest of this office did. This was business, just business). And they wave excitedly as they feel the stares on them, friendly enough that you really couldn’t say a bad word against them.

Choso catches the action and sighs, “I know.” And he takes the bag from you, but doesn’t open it for everyone’s safety. “I have considered it but ah- nothing yet, as you can see.”

“Forgive me for interrupting, brother-” Eso coughs his way into the conversation, “-but might I suggest an alternative meeting spot for the two of you? One that is more private?”

His older brother grumbles, “Eso, don’t start-”

“Oh, that might be appreciated, actually.” You voice your own opinion - sure, the office was nice, and you’d even made acquaintances with some of the employees. But the gossip and constant asking for a wedding invitation did get a bit much sometimes (not to mention the increasingly odd hours you kept arranging your meetings, all in an attempt to avoid Choso’s bustling father who’d been insisting on meeting you). “Where?”

Eso smirks, “His penthouse, of course.”

Your stomach drops.

Choso’s mouth drops.

And the both of you protest out something that gets drowned out in each other, and the personal assistant’s indifferent continuation.

“It’s quite private. No neighbors peeking in, given the floor, and as much space as you need to keep a distance while you exchange your…things.” How practical. Even you found yourself nodding along as you listened, “And, best of all-” He points outside, “-no Itadori Jin.”

Oh shit-

You snap your head behind you, and through the heavy tint of the glass you could spot a familiar head of coral-pink hair stepping out of the elevator. 

You’re immediately rushed to the door—“I uh- I’ll text you.” A hopeful grin on your face.

“I’ll be waiting.” And Choso smiles, softly, before a familiar coo of his name echoes from across the office. And he’s hurrying to help you escape through another one of the elevators in the back of the building.

As you wave goodbye with haste, Choso tugs on his expensive silk tie to loosen it. You always did leave him hot under the collar (literally). The rut was more bearable when he had those articles of your pheromones to go home to, to hold them up to his face, to sniff deeply as he let his hand slip underneath the hem of his sweatpants.

And usually that was enough.

Prime alphas had more control over their secondary gender. But as the days passed, and the ending of his session grew nearer, the tolerable fever of his rut kept turning more into a bonfire, a forest fire. It’s as if his body was fighting to let those animal urges grow stronger. 

Needier. 

Like it knew he had you so close…so why couldn’t he have you?

He wanted you.

He needed you.

And it wasn’t just because of his rut, these past few days a part of him ached for you and he didn’t understand why. Your scent, your smile, the soft rolls of your eyes as you bickered with him. He wanted it all.

Choso wonders whether it really would be better to have you come to his penthouse, instead - at least that would make it more convenient for you. You wouldn’t have to rush out of there like you did any time you came to his office.

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

In fact, he wanted you to-

And then it hits him.

He liked you.

.

.

.

SEVENTH DAY OF RUT.

You pressed the buzzer on the tall, black door. Barely even believing that you were allowed in here - you felt so out of place.

The building that Choso’s penthouse was situated in was one of those massive, high-rise ones that seemed expensive to even look at let alone be escorted to (yes, in the limousine once again). Gleaming windows. Gilded doors. The concierges bowed at you as you passed, and you were showered in complimentary drinks and towels before you even walked into the elevator (that, too, was gilded).

Ultimately, when you finally had arrived at Choso’s penthouse (he had the whole top floor to himself, a button on the elevator just for him), you were antsy before you made your presence known.

You’d texted him about arriving at the building, and was yet to receive a reply- strange. He always replied instantly, as if he really was waiting beside his phone for your message like he said.

But you didn’t think too hard about it, perhaps he just didn’t deem it necessary to respond when you were so close. And would instead just open the door and let you hand off the bag of pheromones like you were supposed to—click!

Ah, there he was. Slowly - agonizingly slowly - the door started opening, and you straightened up where you stood. A smile on your face, and a few words on the tip of your tongue about how fancy of a place it-

You’re in his arms immediately.

Burning hot skin. A needy layer of sweat.

Choso crushes you to his toned, shirtless body like he was adrift at sea and you were the only anchor keeping him above water. Above the storm. And he pants out against the crook of your neck like that was exactly the case.

Like he could finally breathe for the first time in years.

And all he wanted to do was heave in your sweet, sweet scent.

“You.” Raspy. Lower than usual. You swear you feel goosebumps go down your spine the very second you hear his voice. “You’re here-”

“Ch-Choso-” You gasp, feeling your head spin. 

“Please.” He seethes, and something in your body twinges. Something primal. “Please- I want you.”

You’re so in shock that you barely even register anything other than him and his arms and his abs and him, him, him. 

All around you. Choso was just so strong that the parts of your waist where he wrapped his arms around you began to ache. Where his canines began to prick skin, hovering just above your scent glands and oh- you knew you should move.

You knew you should step away.

But some part of you wanted to melt into the touch.

And in some tiny, unfocused part of your brain the slight pain registers with only one word: vanilla cream. The faintest whiff of it. You gasp, “Choso what happened-”

“Brother!” Eso’s familiar voice echoes out from inside the penthouse. And before long, you see his worried face appear to hold onto Choso’s broad shoulders. “Oh my goodness, I go to the bathroom for two minutes and- oh, you’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“No, not at all.” You shake your head, your own arms coming up to replace the warmth of Choso’s as he’s pulled away. Somehow…it felt like a part of you was missing. “He was just cuddly.”

“Oh well, he’s been trying to claw my face off all morning.” Eso grumbles, and continues at your questioning look. “We’re not quite sure what happened. The rut seemed to have hit him particularly hard today, and this has never happened before. You know, today he took his first day off of work in years- his first ever since he joined the company.”

“Seriously?”

Affirming, “Seriously. Most alphas need to take them, that’s what a rut is- but Choso has never quite been like that lot. So to see him like this…”

“I understand.” And it really was a stark contrast to the way he was the last time you saw him. Choso was now pulled more or less inside his home now, turned away from you - as if to spare himself from your sugary scent.

His pale shoulders shaking, sweat clinging onto his hair and the back of his neck.

Just being in your mere presence seemed to make him tremble.

“Oh! And this is for him-” You thrust out your bag of clothes (it was a t-shirt and a skirt, this time—hey! You couldn’t help yourself, you really didn’t have anything else this time. Really.) which Eso took with a thankful nod. 

“Thank you. This will help a lot, he hasn’t been letting anyone else get close to him - not even Jin, and he’s just out getting Choso some coolants. We think this will help a lot more, though.” And then he turns behind him, presumably to search for the cheque—

“Oh, please.” You step back, moving in the direction of the exit. “There’s no need for that, you’ve already compensated me far more than enough, seriously. Just consider it a friend helping out a friend at this point.”

Choso shivers.

Eso smirks, “A friend, huh?” And he lugs his tall, heavy older brother inside. “Hear that, bro? You’re quite lucky to have such a good…friend, huh?” To which Choso murmurs something dark that you can’t hear, and Eso laughs. “Alright alright.”

And with that, you’re waving off the two brothers (well, mostly Eso as Choso was quite…incapacitated at the moment) and making your way down once more.

But every step felt like weights were attached to your feet.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

As you head back down to the car waiting outside.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

When you still feel the tingle of his touch on your skin. You clenched your fists and tried to remember - only three more days of his rut. Only three more days that you two will be meeting like this. If at all. (‘You’re here. Please, I want you.’)

You want to go to him.

You want to go to him.

You want to go to him.

.

.

.

EIGHTH DAY OF RUT.

It was business as usual. You arrived at the penthouse building, nodded politely at the receptionist, and rode the elevator all the way up to the final floor.

Except, this time, when you pressed the buzzer on the door - there was no Choso.

And so you waited for a few seconds before pressing it again, for slightly longer this time. No Choso, still. And no Eso, either. Nor a beaming Jin, nor even that infamous uncle of theirs that you’ve heard much about.

You tried a few more times before opening up your chat with Choso (he hadn’t responded to you all morning, and you were beginning to feel slightly anxious). And just as you were about to shoot a text to Eso, there’s a rattle behind the thick door. As if something heavy had just rested against the plane of wood.

“Choso?” You ask, cautiously.

And there’s heavy breathing. A low, cracked baritone that says—“Baby.” Shivers run down your spine. Sparks. It seemed he was alone in his penthouse today. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Don’t you worry now.” He reassures you, likely scenting the concerned sourness in your pheromones. And you smell the faint willowy fragrance of him seeping out comforting pheromones of his own. “But m’gonna need you to leave that bag at my doorstep, okay? Just leave it there, Eso will contact you about the rest, and I need you to carefully get in the elevator and leave, alright? Don’t worry about me.”

Exasperated. “Choso, how can I not worry about you?”

“It’s just this hngh- damn- rut-” He replies, as if the very words pained him to say. A hand slamming down on the door—crash! “But you don’t have to worry about it, alright? I’ll be right as rain for you in about t-two days, it’s just a little hard right now…”

“I see.” And with that, you listen to what he has to say. You couldn’t fight against nature; and for a prime alpha that was likely even more true. 

You leave the bag of clothes at his doorstep - a pair of your soft, cotton sleep shorts this time, and a skirt that you (almost) had no shame in putting in - and wade your way down. As you get in the elevator, you see the front door to Choso’s penthouse open- and his deep, brown eyes staring at you from across the hallway.

Before the doors shut, and it’s another day.

.

.

.

NINTH DAY OF RUT.

“Choso—” You’d forgone pressing on the doorbell and started knocking on his expensive door by now. Yesterday he’d answered your calls after a few minutes - today it seemed like he wasn’t answering at all.

And yet, you tried anyway.

It seemed that Choso had fully isolated himself from his well-meaning family by this stage of his rut. And they counted on you to hand off your fresh bag of pheromone-doused clothes - he seemed to be getting quite a bit of use from them.

The thought made your heart race.

You shook the notion away and focused on knocking once more - still nothing.

Eventually, your phone vibrated with a text from Jin. He was telling you to simply leave the bag at Choso’s front door like you had the day before, and that he’d pop in later to check that everything was okay with his son.

You sighed, “I’ll be leaving this here, Cho.” Enough so that he could hear. And you do as you said, the bag was heavy today with a t-shirt, and another flimsy skirt. You already start wondering what you’ll share with him tomorrow. “Just one more day- hang tight, okay?”

And with that, you walk away. Getting into the elevator, you attempt to peek through the closing gap for a glimpse of him, perhaps even his gaze, perhaps even the sight of the door opening - no such luck.

But if you had then you’d have been awe-struck.

Choso Kamo. Gone.

It takes him a few more minutes after you’ve left to even think of stepping out into the empty hallway. Once any and every trace of your scent had dissipated from the place. Once he could finally tug his hand out from underneath his pre-drenched pants, rock-hard at the mere sound of your voice. Twitching.

And as soon as Choso grabs ahold of the bag, he all but moans.

Your scent hits him as soon as he opens it up; inside was a t-shirt, a skirt, and a—oh. He really does moan once he realizes what it was. Reaching for that flimsy piece of fabric at the very bottom of the bag, bundled up like it wasn’t even meant to be there, Choso’s right hand furiously slips underneath the hem of his pants once more.

And later - hours and hours later - you’ll be finishing up folding your laundry for the night when you realize: one of your panties had gone missing.

.

.

.

TENTH DAY OF RUT.

It was the final day.

You didn’t quite know how to feel. Of course, you were glad for the fact that Choso won’t be under such agony after today, and that he’d finally have full control of his body. For the first time in ten entire days.

But then again, a part of you was…slightly saddened by the prospect of not seeing him anymore.

You had to admit that you’d grown to like him a lot more than you thought you would. A lot more than a simple scent exchange—no. He was a prime alpha. Unfocused on anything but work. Uncaring. And yet…that was entirely just the first impression he’d given you.

The fact of the matter was that he was much more than that.

Much, much more.

And you couldn’t explain away the slight pang in your heart as you realized that this might be the last time (ever - for who was to say that he’d want you as his partner for the scent exchange program next year, as well) you’d be leaving him your pheromone-drenched clothes. So you take your time nodding at the workers you pass on your way to his penthouse, steps as lingering as can be.

Until, finally, you boarded the elevator.

And you were outside his imposing door once more. Dark and looming. You didn’t even bother pressing on the buzzer anymore, your hand raising to knock—

The door was already open.

You halted. Hovering outside the doorway, unsure of what to do- “Choso?” Calling out, you carefully took a step inside. The door was unbolted yet not fully swung open, more like someone had simply forgotten to lock it. And yet, with the state he was in, you didn’t know what to expect. “Are you home? Are you alright?”

When there’s no answer, you actually go inside.

And the first thing that hits you: the fragrance.

The smell of vanilla vines. The sweetness of whipped cream. The airy feeling of its spread. The warmth that it brings to your body. You take it all in and you feel your knees go weak- fuck, you’ve never felt like this before.

Just because of a—you take an even deeper breath—scent?

Oh, and your feet move towards where the pheromones were more concentrated before you know it. With barely enough sense to close the door behind you, barely enough scent to watch where you were going, to register - it seemed you were walking to none other than Choso’s bedroom.

And it was a dangerous path you were following.

A dangerous path, indeed. 

That slight rational part of your brain told you to walk away, to get a beta like Eso to check up on Choso instead. But no—you’d rather walk.

You’d rather stop- and blink yourself back to the realization that you’d just wound up outside the master bedroom. Its varnished wooden door ajar, just like the entrance had been. Streams of vanilla scent wafting from underneath it.

Wafting straight to your brain-

“Baby?” Choso’s guttural growl hits straight to your core, and you can feel your panties slowly soaking at his tone. Deep. Husky. Almost hoarse with need. “Baby- oh, baby. Are you there?”

Even from this distance, Choso could smell your pheromones - and you were sure that you’re puffing it out even more now. Soundlessly, you push open the door, and there he was.

Sprawled against the sheets of his king-sized bed.

Surrounded by your clothes. His skin flushed, covered with a gleaming layer of sweat. Head clammy and rested against his pillows. Stripped down to just his boxers. Hands twitching like they didn’t know whether to pull out of his pants out of propriety, or to grip his raging hot cock even harder. Broad pecs out as he panted—

Choso glimpsed the sight of you entering and threw his head back with a moan- “Oh-” He pleaded, and it almost sounded to you like a whine. “Oh, you don’t know what you’ve done.”

“Choso—” You whisper, hypnotized by the impressive length that was outlined in his underwear. You step into his room, and it feels like stepping into a sauna. Oversaturated with scent, and sweat, and the craving for sex. He flinches at the sound of your voice.

Like he’d just been electrocuted.

Mouth slack. Expression like he’d just seen a ghost. 

“You don’t know what you’ve just done…fuck.” And with that, he beckons out one toned arm in your direction. Staring at you dead-on through his half-lidded peripherals, plump lips wobbling. Spit-slicked. And ready. “I beg of you…don’t deny me.”

You take two steps.

Two.

And on the third one, Choso’s effortlessly reaching out and tugging you to him. Straight into his bed. You land straddled on top of his toned pelvis, all wet with a puddle of sticky precum. Drippin’ down the inner parts of your thighs, just feeling your body on top of his makes his erection wad out with creamy pre.

Cascading in beads between your skirt, n’ down your drenched panties. “Sh-shit, Choso.” You whimper, and your inner luna coos. “How do you want me to help you? What do you want?”

And he hums as if he pretends to think - as if he could even formulate a coherent thought right now. Nostrils flaring as he takes in your sultry scent, he grins. “I’ve been dying of thirst these past few days, baby- have barely even had a proper meal.”

You nod, “I can whip something up for you- what would you like-”

“Oh no, baby. I want you.”

.

.

.

“N-ngh—oh.” Your spit bubbles out at the feeling of the tight, hot streeeeetch between your pussylips. Choso’s cracking open those cute, slick-covered thighs of yours.

His pinkish tongue stretching out with a slurp to lick up the mess made all over your skin. It covers you like a sheen, and Choso’s ready to lap up each n’ every drop of slick that clings onto you. Tongue dipping in and out.

And he drag-drag-drags the tip of his tastebuds over to where your panties were, slipping his tongue just inside-

“Oh my god- ngh.” You buck your hips wildly from where you’re straddling his pretty, pretty face. And just as you raise your cunt, Choso lurches his face up to chase it. You shiver as you feel his wet muscle against your panties once more, “Don’t tease, Cho- I thought you said you were hungry-”

“Baby, I’m starving.” He’s spitting out between your bloated folds, voice thick with need. “Oh my god. I’m ravenous. Famished- I think m’gonna fucking die if I don’t eat this pretty pussy right now.”

“Then why don’t you- hck…?”

“Because—”  Choso whines out - as if having your treacly cunt so close to him and yet so far was killing him inside - and he looks at you through his long lashes. And you swear you see his lashes glitter with needy fuckin’ tears- “-because you need ta tell me s’okay to.”

“Oh.” Your mouth parts, a cloud of murky breath escaping. It only adds to the heat in the room, every inch of your skin is practically sizzling at this point.

And without further ado, you grip onto the crown of Choso’s scalp. It was drenched in needy sweat, and he whimpers as you tug on his glossy, brown locks. “Wh-what do you-” He mutters as you start to move, a line of drool tricklin’ from the side of his mouth. “-baby, what are you going to- oh, mmmgh-”

And then he’s just stuffed.

Then he’s just getting such a wet, candied mouthful of your pussy and he can’t stop himself from groaning into the taste. Can’t help himself from careening forwards and makin’ out with your pussy even deeper. Can’t help himself from slithering his long tongue upwards and slidin’ straight down your glittering crevice.

A single lick - a single one - and Choso’s suddenly pussydrunk.

“I- I think-” He mumbles away wetly, “I think you’re my soulmate.”

Choso then plunges his tongue into you like a madman.

Thick, salivating thrusts straight between your swollen pussylips. He seems to be aiming straight for your throat with his lengthy pushes, and you feel him stretch out your entrance with his sheer girth. Again. And again and again and again.

Plump n’ clingy.

The round tip of Choso’s tongue slips across your walls n’ and you shiver, you feel him perfectly fill out every hidden crevice. “Oh- oh my god, Cho—your tongue is just so long.”

“You like it, baby?” He’s fluttering his lashes, and you flinch as both of his clammy palms plaster onto either side of your thighs. Trembling. Holding you open. Choso holds onto you so tight that you feel his nail marks dig into your flesh, tugging you down onto his ajar mouth. “Please- please, I hafta know- you know, I was made to make you f-feel good?”

“It feels so good—” You shrill out, your throat botched with hoarse whines. And without you even thinking, Choso’s manhandling you into a steady cadence on top of his gaped maw.

Pushing and pulling.

Swervin’ and stirring.

You have your needy, oversensitive folds spread all open for him, and his tongue stickin’ its way inside your puckered hole. Oh, it was just so cute how you clenched each time he pulled out- it’s like you wanted him to stay so bad.

And his right hand inches in, pryin’ open your pussylips to further bare you to his thrashing mouth. “I’m glad-” He rasps out, “I’m s-so glad I make you feel good, baby. You know you can ride me h-harder, y’know?”

“Are you sure?” You weave a second hand into his scalp, and push away the perspired bangs sticking to his forehead. “But m’worried you won’t be able to breathe, Choso.”

He furrows his dark brows like he’s confused, “But I don’t need to breathe.”

“Y-yes you do?”

“No I don’t.” He insists, firmer this time. And you think you can hear the tint of dominance creeping into his shaky baritone. Tugging you down- “Just- harder. Please. Sit.”

Your body thrills at the idea of properly seating yourself on top of his handsome face. Because you were hovering right now, but he wanted you to sit sit.

Jerking you down- “Just- fucking- sit- who do you think ya are?”

“Your- breathing…”

And before you know it, Choso grips your poor, jittery legs so hard that now you’re sure they leave marks. Ones for days. Weeks. Months. And using his natural strength, he spreads them wiiiiide open—“Open for me- just open f’me. Please. Just a lil’ more…” Salivating at the heavenly sight above him, he then edges his heady head forwards and spits. Leaning in even closer. “I haven’t eaten anythin’ proper in days, my baby. So if I want you to sit, then I mean- sit.”

You properly situate yourself on top of his scorching maw with a yelp, and with this angle- oh. Choso’s able to angle his head even deeper.

Push after push.

Tuggin’ it back out with the most lecherous squelches. And then right back again. He lets his roverin’ wet tip scour every inch inside of you - fuck, he was famished. Letting the cloying webs of your slick seep all the way to the back of his throat. 

And Choso groans at the friction of you riding his mouth like you were drunk on it: back n’ forth, back n’ forth, back n’ forth.

You’re leaving his pretty lips all red and raw with your vulgar tempo- and though it burns with the pressure, he doesn’t let up. He doesn’t even slow down.

He doesn’t do anything but pin you down onto his gluttonous mouth with one hand, whilst the other spreads open your folds. Thumbing down your crevice, Choso swabs your throbbing clit as he passes.

And he gulps back the spittle building up in his mouth once he sticks the forefront of his digit inside. Gutturally openin’ up your hole, “And look at her—oh.” You shake at his pants as he continues massaging his thick thumb inside. “My dessert.”

Dessert.

Fuck- you snap your head down in slight concern to check up on him. And what meets you is Choso’s barely-open eyes, his hazy peripherals, his cute blush, his babbling mouth. He flaps his lips open a few times and takes you in even deeper.

“O-oh.” You arch your spine into the perfect curvature, grindin’ your cunt down in sensual figure-eights. “Fuck yes- yes, it feels so good-”

“Fuckin’ tastes so good.” Choso grunts out, Adam’s apple bobbing after each heavy gulp of your syrupy slick. “Better than anything I’ve ever had-” You’re riding his face to madness, letting out slurp after slurp that echoes out each time you slide your tender pussy up, up, uuuup to the tip of his sharp nose. And then all the way down, just to do it all over again. “Better than anything I- oh, anything that I could possibly even imagine.”

And then he pauses - not the scourin’, slipping movements of his mouth - but the way he was prattling away.

For that moment, the only sounds in the room were the wettened slurps of your pussy and the way that you were struggling to catch your breath- Choso himself doesn’t even seem to need to respire. No, he was much too focused on entering his prolonged ring finger and middle inside your sappy cunt.

You feel the way he stretches you out on his single digits, the slightly feverish heat of them being tracked oh-so-perfectly inside.

Reaching even further than what his mouth was able to reach. Stirrin’ against every tiny nook and cranny. Stretching you out, out, out.

And like Choso was made to - like he solely existed to - his body manages to find your sweet spots so easily. Squeeeeelch. The curvy ends of his fingers digging against the sides of your walls, slickly, you smell the pure carnal satisfaction in his pheromones as you shiver.

Your mouth dropping into a breathy ‘oh’ at the feeling of him stroking your poor g-spot. “There- r-right there, oh my god…ngh.”

“Oh, you’re getting even wetter, baby.” He gapes his mouth open at the way you were dripping out like a waterfall. Like an open faucet. “Awww, s’this all f’me?” The most sugary-sweet sploshes of slick that’s targetted straight into his open mouth - but just because Choso was fucking you with his digits doesn’t mean that he’s letting you off easy with his tongue, either. “You- you know, I almost can’t keep up- heh. Ngh, but I will.”

“You- you will?”

“Fuck yeah.”

And there’s something growling at the back of Choso’s throat. Something primal. Something that makes him sound half-crazed- and he’s acting like it, too.

Wrenching you straight down onto his face like a seat. He’s making you sit all idly as he laps his flattened tongue all over the front of your pussy, drinking in each n’ every ounce of syrup that he was urging out.

And right in time with the way his fingertips probed into your tender g-spot, you could feel his tongue sliding everywhere. Almost as if he was painting. From the line of your slit, to the button of your clit- and then he’s even trying to thrust his greedy way inside.

Like he was trying to fuck you twice with both his fingers and his tastebuds.

Slurp after slurp. He uses the strong tip of his tongue to tug aside your pussylips, and slides in a third finger.

Now fucking you with all three—“And oh- look at her, she’s so soft. So sweet. So-” He could barely even speak with the way he was lunging forwards between breaths to leave such long, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt. “I wouldn’t mind even suffocating between these pretty thighs, c’mon- harder.”

And there it was again, that little mantra. “H-harder? Again? Choso, are you sure what you’re asking f-”

“I know too well, baby.” Pouting, “Want this pretty pussy to grind against me, please?”

“But I already am-”

“Even harder. And-” With a slight jolt that runs through Choso’s lanky body, he’s sniffing the air - or more accurately, your soaked cunt. And whatever he smells makes him grin. “-and you’re just so close- I need you to cream all down my tongue, m’kaaaaay?”

“Oh.” Your mouth drops, and surely- you could feel the twinges of pleasure that were rushing up your core. Sparking. “Yes-” You listen to him, and the luna inside you purrs. “Please- wanna cum- please please-”

And Choso’s listening. Choso’s nodding.

Accelerating the hammers of his fingers, it makes you throw your head back with a keen. Your body shaking- and each of these, the alpha below you takes happily.

Any time you pushed him around. Any time you were clutching onto the strands of his body and movin’ him to perfectly angle his swabs against your g-spot. Any time you crushed your pussy down on his mouth, he himself bucked—

“M’so close—” You whine through your tears, now that you knew your orgasm was impending. And he hears that confession like the prettiest melody he’s ever heard.

“So cum, baby.” Choso stares up at your tensing expressions atop him - so beautiful. “Please- c-can you cum on my face?” And then he’s tugging his slick, velveteen tongue across your clit. Bringing your attention to it- “Right here, baby. Cum riiiiight here…”

Not waiting any longer, you do cum.

Right then and there - exactly in the middle of his sizzling tastebuds, like he’d wanted you to. Your orgasm drags out in waves of bliss, and with each one he bullies his fingers upwards.

Strike after strike to your g-spot-

Your toes curl, you see stars.

“Oh.” You shake on top of his mouth, feeling so easily overstimulated by his ruthless pace. You run a hand through his hair, “You really are starved, Cho- easy there, you’ll choke.”

He giggles wetly through the whines n’ wads of slick you were letting out. “Baby, I told you- I don’t mind if I fuckin’ suffocate if it’s between these gorgeous, gorgeous legs.” As if to prove his point, he only surges you through your high even further. Letting it linger. “In fact, I’d be honored.”

It’s with these exact words ringing in your eardrums that you ride out the entirety of your high. Until you’re shaking and sensitive, until it’s nothing more than a fuzzy sensation at the pit of your stomach.

“I know you’d be honored, but-” You whimper, “-oh, baby. M’sensitive.”

Choso jolts at the nickname you’d just used for him- “Th-that’s unfair. You should know how much power you- fuck, have over me like this-” And it really doesn’t help that your candied pussy has him pussydrunk.

“You’re saying that when you have me like this?”

You’re noticing that his pheromones seemed to have tampered down from the unstable manner they were earlier. Sure, they were still just as strong and frequent - but they seemed to be more of a controlled roar than bursts.

Adoringly, you run your fingers through his needy scalp, chasing your touch- only, you’re so weak with the aftershock of your orgasm that your hand slips. It slides under Choso’s pillow. And soon enough, you’re holding onto the stringy hem of your panties.

The exact same ones that you thought you’d lost last night.

He’d somehow acquired them, and hidden them away under his pillow- perhaps at the sound of your intrusion into the penthouse. And you hold them up to his bleary line of vision with a huff, “And care to explain this?”

“Well you put it in my bag, baby.” He puffs out, gingerly. “And m’not gonna complain about something so sweet…”

“As expected.” You grumble out, half-heartedly, before you get a lecherous idea yourself. With a sloppy slurp! you extract yourself off of Choso’s ravenous mouth.

And he chases your pussy with a whine- only for that very gluttonous maw of his to get stuffed with your balled-up panties. Perhaps if this was any other alpha (especially a prime alpha, at that) then they might have been irritated, then they might have spat out the damn thing and gotten revenge instead.

But what Choso does is choke on your lewd panties and whimpers.

His hips thrusting upwards needily. Those tight, tight boxers of his had all but slid off by now, and your cunt scrapes against the rotund crown of his shaft. Feeling it dribble out in precum down your slit, you slide down his size leisurely- “And I guess you can’t complain about something else just as sweet, hm?”

He muffles out a moan through his gag - before he realizes that he wasn’t making any sense, and can only nod and nod and nod.

“Thought so.” You giggle out, before turning your attention downwards. “And now, to see whether it’s true that it’s always the quiet ones…”

And once you finally drop down his underwear, you finally have an answer to that.

Because Choso was big.

Mentally, you count up his swollen length - about seven, eight- no, over nine entire inches that throbbed and pulsed eagerly at the feeling of your gaze on him. And he was measurably as thick, decorated with a few winding veins that you run your fingernail down.

Just the slightest touch. You follow down the somewhat unruly line of his dark happy trail. Enough to make him spurt out in pearly beads of pre, that drip down your wrist. 

He was blushed the cutest red on top of his tip, matching the flush that was overtaking his face. Choso gnaws down on his bottom lip, his hips bucking in impatience as you continue your teasing ministrations. “Come- come on-” Uttering through your damn panties still - it seemed as if he didn’t want to take it off. “Won’t you ride me- ngh, stupid, baby?”

“Oh- so is that what you want during your rut, Cho?” You balance yourself on top of him, guiding his fat tip between your folds. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head fervently- “No- no, ngh. It feels like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life so won’t you- hck!” Rutting. “Please just- fuck me.”

And so you do.

Well- almost. You plop your hips down to take in the first inch of his ruddied cockhead. It was honed just so perfectly to squeeze his way inside, pointed at the tip n’ then opening you sinfully up, up, uuuuup—

“Ohhh—” Your head falls back, lungs heaving. He was stretching you out until you were rendered speechless, and Choso was barely even trying. Having you drunk on the sheer size of his cock already. “Shit, Choso. You’re so big, it’s unf- oh.”

You stop short.

Because that’s when you crack your eyes open to take a good, long look at him.

The way that Choso’s flush was fuming at his point, the way his eyes were rolled so far back that you could only see the whites of them, the way his mouth was unhinged with such a ragged groan of your name-

“Fuh-fuck…fuck.” He could barely even manage out, and goosebumps bristle all throughout Choso’s clammy skin at the first feeling of your hot, drippin’ cunt. 

Fuck, he even has to spit out that panty gag of yours that he loved so much.

Before you know it - before he even knows it, because fuck if he was in control of his own body at this point - he’s already rutting upwards into your heated pussy. Not even a proper thrust. Not even trying, actually.

Just wanting to feel you.

“Oh-” You gasp, “Easy there, Cho.”

“S-sorry, baby.” He groans, and stops himself just in time. To support his claim, both his hands reach above him and hold onto the wooden pillars of the headboard. Clenching. “Take all the time you need, okay?”

“Mhm—”

And so you do. Teasing. Grinding.

It was just so sensual the way you were taking him. And the thing was- you hadn’t even gotten used to his size yet. So all you were doing was feeling the resistance of your slick walls. Fighting back, gritting his teeth; he whines as he attempts to stay in control, “Take- all the- time-”

“I will.” You purr, and it makes him just melt. Oh, how badly he just wanted to hold onto you and fuck you stupid, until you couldn’t talk back to him in that sultry voice that left him as putty in your hands. “But it’s just so hard, that I…”

“That you what?” Almost sounding pain. A man with his life on the line.

And you take your time pretending to think, “-that I don’t even know if I can take it all, Choso. What a shame.”

His voice cracks, “Oh, that’s okay, baby. That’s okay- don’t have to do anything you d-don’t want to, honey. But oh—” And the bed creaks once he holds himself back from yet another thrust. “-p-please try.”

“I dunno…if only I had someone to help me.” You pretend to look around, “I just wonder who-”

“I can.” Eager. So, so eager. He’s trying to keep himself restrained n’ under control, but it doesn’t fucking work. His chest practically vibrates with the force of his secondary gender begging to enter you- “Let me, baby? I promise I can get it all the way-” One of his hands lets up the grip of his headboard, sliding down your middle. He marks an ‘x’ midway down your stomach, almost near your damn lungs. “-h-here. Does that sound good, ngh-?”

“Mhm—sounds perfect- oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - doesn’t even let you finish your train of thought before Choso then holds one side of your hips and reels his achin’ cock back to push and push and push.

Squelch after such lecherous squelch.

“Oh my god-” Choso moans out, hollowly, once you squeeze your gummy walls ‘round him. And he locks his eyes down to where the two of you were connected before he repeats his pushing motions. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. So this is what a p-pussy feels like…she can feel this good?” He murmurs, breathless. “That should be illegal- oh, this shouldn’t be fucking allowed- you could kill a man.”

You gape. The way he positioned his pistons was so perfect, grazing each ridged crevice inside your channel. “So you’ve really never done this- ngh, before?”

“No- never in my life. But oh, baby, if I knew it would feel like this then I’d have fucked you right in the- hngh, meeting room that I met you.” With that said, he fucks up into you primally. “So now will you h-hold still and take it alllll?”

Something in his crazed smile made you tremble. And you can’t stop yourself from responding back, “Y-yes?”

“Tha’s not good enough, baby. I need you to tell me you’ll take it-” Before you know it, he has one hand on your neck. “C’mon.” The other’s still holding onto the headboard, flexing in a way that makes you ogle his chiselled muscles. “Say it.”

Shocked by this sudden desperation, this sudden dominance. “I’ll t-take-” You can barely even breathe - not just because of the rough hold he had on you, but the way that his hand then slithers back down to your stomach now. 

And Choso was pushing down where the most pressure was on you already, feeling for his cylindrical intrusion as he fits inside.

Feeling for himself as he does.

You’re being bucked and busked in tiny bounces upwards each time Choso’s ramming his hips into you. And he decides that he just won’t let you get away that easily. Cooing, “Yes? Please tell me, honey- please.”

“Gonna take it- ngh.” You whimper, your entire body shaking each time he slipped in yet another inch. His cock was so long that it felt like it was never-ending probing into your deepest depths. “-all- fuck! M’gonna take it all, Cho—”

And then something in him seems to snap.

Because with a final, furious rut- Choso’s bottoming out.

He’s hitting the back of your cervix with a wet thwack! He’s letting his entire veiny length throb inside you. He’s shattering the ancient wood of the headboard with his pure inhuman strength, before bringing his hands down to your hips.

He just broke the bed- and now with both of them glued there as if with adhesive, you’re pinned to him.

At his full, carnal (lack of) mercy as Choso drills into you at a speedy pace. You swear he’s hitting the goopy back of your pussy multiple times a second, burrowing his thick circumference deeply into the back of it.

“There-” He husks out with his smoky breath, and it sounds more like a grunt. “There there there there there-” Every syllable of his is punctured with a thorough push against your spongy cervix.

And his heavy, partially-closed eyes are simply latched onto where your pussy glistened around his thick hilt. You were stretched so widely open around him that he almost felt bad for that poor cunt of yours - “Fuck, m’r-really inside- ngh. Can you feel me all deep inside?” Hazy peripherals probing up at you for answers. “Does it feel like this pussy’s gonna n-ngh- remember me, baby?”

“Yes- fuck, don’t even joke about that.” You whimper, because it fully felt like he was molding your snug channel to his size. “M’feeling you in so deep.”

“Heh, and I can see that.” He chuckles, and you wonder what he’s talking about.

Snapping your head down, you realize just what it is - because it didn’t matter just how your body was proportioned or angled, the thickness of Choso’s shaft was so generous that he could see himself bulge from the outside.

Such a cute lil’ bump that he follows with one thumb, letting it linger above your womb to feel the vibrations of him hitting the back of your pussy. “Look at thaaaaat—almost makes me wanna fuck in a-another bump into you, my baby.”

Oh?

Oh.

Your jaw gapes, “Choso, do you mean a-”

“Yes.”

“You wanna fuck me pregnant-”

“Oh—don’t make me imagine it like th-that.” And you’re quickly understanding why: because it made his rock-hard cock swell even further. He was getting even harder. His pheromones gusting out. His already-incredible length snagging against the sides of your walls with his big he was getting.

He looked completely shattered at the mere thought.

An expression which you can’t help but get addicted to. And, slowly but surely, you find yourself melting atop his broad body. “Well- that- ngh, that is what ruts are for, aren’t they?”

Still not stopping, he just slightly blinks up at you.

Just slightly lets it sink in.

It takes a full five thuds against the back of your needy pussy before the words fully register in Choso’s buzzing brain. And he acknowledges them with a sudden, damp gasp- “So you…” Lovingly scraping his open palm down your front, your womb. “- you would let me cum inside, baby? R-right here?”

“Mhm, really.”

“Really really?” He repeats in disbelief, and the tips of his fingerpads shake as he holds onto you. As he flares his nostrils and sniffs- “Oh, baby.”

You look towards him at the hushed tone of his voice, the way he almost sounded as if he was in prayer. “Yes?”

“You’re in heat.”

He’d pushed you into heat.

And now he was pushing you onto your back. Your head pressed against the soft pillows, you whine as your limp legs are thrown over his shoulders, your heels digging into the divots at his Herculean shoulders. “And I’m- haaaah—” Honestly, he sounded as if he was in a daze. As if he was dreaming.

In an instant, you find your knees being pushed all the way up to your tits, and Choso’s clammy forehead sticking to yours. Burning hot. 

He takes a few seconds to admire you like this, before his tongue flickers back to life- and so does his rough cadence. “-and m’gonna give you exactly what you want, my little omega.”

A baby.

Your inner luna was yearning for it- and by the way that Choso sniffs, you’re sure he could smell it on your scent.

Squealing at the stretch of both your hamstrings and your poor pussy, you throw your head back and take it- rapid, burrowing thrusts. More like pistons. Straight to your g-spot. Then push-push-pushing his crowned tip against every inch of your depth, he doesn’t leave a single speck of space inside you that isn’t dotted with his precum.

Choso spits against his snarling canines, “Gonna fill you up r-right till- here-” You find your throat in his clutches, bringing his face even closer against your swollen scent glands. “Gonna fill you up with my cum until you can’t even remember your name. And then- and then…”

“And then…?” You’re bawling out, feeling the sparks of your high start to simmer after each plunge. Each of his dirty, dirty sentences.

“And then—” And even though Choso was already so close, he’s bustlin’ himself even deeper against the heady crook of your neck. The edges of his honed canines nipping at your skin, as if to remind you exactly what he’s capable of. “-then m’gonna fill you up with my knot until you can’t remember anything but that.” He promises, “Honey, you’re not walking outta this room until you’re pregnant.”

“O-oh-” You shudder, your hands clawing down Choso’s scalp and down to leave red, red lines over his back. “I want that- hck! Oh, I think m’so close, Cho.”

He groans, “Fuck- seems I’ve filled you enough already that you’ve forgotten my name, too, hm?” Choso snickers as you look on in confusion, unsure whether it was your cockdrunken self or his pussydrunken self that was mistaken. “Why don’t you try sayin’ my hah- actual title as you cum on my cock- huh, baby?”

“Your- your actual name?” You see stars once he jabs your bruised g-spot.

“Mhm—” And he drags out his strokes so deliciously. Such windy, slurping noises that emanate every time he’s letting his shaft pull out and plunge all the way in - and what’s even worse?

Not only was Choso targeting your cute g-spot, he was doubly reaching over to pinch your clit. His thumb roverin’ wetly over it, “C’mon. Say it, baby.” As if you knew exactly what he was talking about. “Say it- call me…your mate.”

Something seems to twist and shatter inside of you - and in an instant, you’re hitting your high. Ending off the blissful burst of your orgasm with a broken call of that title.

Again and again.

The arrows of pleasure were just constant - you don’t think you’ve ever experienced an orgasm such as this. And perhaps it was on instinct, perhaps it was purely because he’d mapped out the mannerisms of your soft pussy so well, but Choso’s able to pinpoint the timing of your exact peaks. 

Stabbing his rapidfire hips in before each one, he prolongs your high out until you’re seeing completely white. Your mouth falling ajar with ribbons of miry saliva-

“Ch-Choso-” You sob out, pulling him even closer to you. Your pheromones are seeping into his skin and yours, surging with each mountain of euphoria. Before you finish out shyly, “Cho- ngh, my mate.”

“Oh, f-fuck.”

And with a squelch, he’s pouring out in hot, ivory sap just like he’d promised to you earlier. So much of it- that you start to wonder where it all even came from.

Gluey lines of seed that streak your walls, Choso’s fucking each n’ every wettened wad inside until your walls surely look like such a mess. All webbed up inside, you swear you could feel the sploshes of it jostling with each jackhammer. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck-” He grits out, salivating through his snarl. Again and again, the round curve of his balls hit you with thwacks! “I need to…”

You urge your neck closer to his mouth, “Cho—”

“Fuck- I can’t- not yet-” He finishes off his orgasm, riding it out on your precious cunt. You were just so wet- so soft with the sprayed volumes of his cum, that it felt like heaven to even run his thumb down the swollen middle.

With his thumb, Choso slightly parts your folds and smears the creamy mess he’d made in the middle. It was dribblin’ all out now, forming a nice ring of his seed. 

And - all buried to the hilt, still - he draws out a cute lil’ ‘C’ on top of your cunt. “I’m your m-mate.” He breathes out, and the vanilla scent of his pheromones turns more airy. Happier. “And I hafta fuck you like it.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped over - easily.

And Choso pulls out for just the barest second to help you situate, before he’s back to pressing his fleshy cockhead between your pussylips once more. He squeeze-squeeze-squeezes that thick girth inside, letting out the huskiest groan as he does so- “Ah ah, where are we going, my mate?”

“Oh, I was just…” You’re lost for words. So dumbified at this point that you didn’t even know you were jerking your body away; stuck between wanting to run away and bucking your hips back for more, more, more.

But Choso helps you with your decision: he wraps his big, beefy bicep around your neck. Chuckling at the splash of saliva that escapes you at the restraint- you’re suddenly being tugged back against his hips. Back against the throbbing cock that enters you easily, his zig-zagged veins tickling your outer rim. “You didn’t think we were done yet, right, baby?” And he sounded as if he was genuinely confused.

You look over your shoulder at him- oh, Choso was ruined. “Ah- um, perhaps?”

“That’s cute, baby. But you’re gonna let me- hah, fulfill my duty n’ fill this pretty pussy up until she can’t take anymore, right?” He wanted to watch you struggle to take his sheer volume. His cum. From behind, you could feel his thick knot swelling already- “After all…you do remember that m’still an alpha, right?”

Right. 

.

.

.

After that second round came a third, expectably. And after that third came a fourth. And after that fourth- oh, Choso couldn’t help himself.

He just kept going back for more.

Because there was then a fifth, a sixth, a- honestly, you don’t even know which round you were at right now. All you knew is that you were completely n’ utterly fucked, on top, your thighs screaming for rest as you straddled his slightly bucking hips.

And Choso himself wasn’t doing much better.

He was completely flushed the exact same shade of crimson as his cockhead, from head to toe. Darkened eyes almost shut. Mouth permanently agape. Only lolling open even wider after each press of your ass cheeks against his pelvis.

You were riding him crazy.

And Choso’s murky peripherals roll to the back of his head as he felt you cum - for the nth time that night. By now, it was just the slightest tingle at the pit of your stomach, and you sobbed as you rode it all the way through.

“Yes-” He whispers, almost to himself. Cock overstimulated, the skin on his pelvis all red and raw. And yet- and yet, he still couldn’t stop. Thinks he’d rather die than stop. Sniffling back tears of sensitivity, “Yes yes yes- use me, baby. Use me, my mate.” 

Choso’s puffing out pleasurable pheromones, you’d long since come to realize that they almost worked like aphrodisiacs for the two of you.

And it made you shiver, placing your face against the perspired crook of his neck. “Ngh- cum inside.” You physically move Choso’s large hands over to the front of your stomach, where he’d stuffed you with so many wads of his ivory sap that it was starting to bloat a lil’. “Please- wan’ it, ngh, inside.”

“A-as you wish, my wife- fuck.” Choso throws his head back (oh, and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of his high or that mere image of you, vowing to be with him in this life and the next). “-I-I mean, my mate.”

With that, he’s stuffin’ your orifice so much.

It’s hot and splashing against your crevices, your womb.

Not enough space for it all, it drips out like a waterfall around his happy trail, which now glistened with your sweet juices. But he couldn’t have that- now, could he? And Choso slowly - agonizingly slowly - squeezes his fleshy knot inside you. Pushing and pushing. Just tuggin’ on your walls, your entrance is so tenderized by him that it doesn’t take him too long to get the wide circumference of his base to fit inside with a wet plop! A raw stretch that makes you cry out at the oodles of cum trapped inside you.

Until it geysers. Until he’s spurting out in enough ribbons of seed that he eventually cums dry-

Until he’s turning his face inside the crook of your neck and biting into your scent glands.

You gasp as you feel the bubble of it pop! underneath his sharp teeth, and a sudden burst of pleasure explodes through your body. Hard enough that you might just be crashing into your next few orgasms all at once- “Oh- oh, fuck, Choso- my mate.”

In turn, you let your own canines bite into the glands on the side of his neck.

It leaves a bite mark just as hard and desperate as his. Just as permanent. And before long, you’re basking the aftermath of your multiple rounds, the haze of your dual fragrances now melding into one.

It takes Choso raising his nose into the air and sniffing this gradual change for you to realize- “My…my mate.” You start out, intertwining your hands with his. He sidles up against you, as if both feverish bodies were trying to become one. “No- or should I say, my fated mate?”

“You noticed.” Choso smiles, eyes twinkling with tears. And it all made sense: the intense reaction he had to your scent, the way his moved yours, the connection you felt. “I thought you never would. Where have you been my whole life?”

You coo, “Of course, I would notice. M’sorry it took so long-”

“Never apologize.” He insists, shaking his clammy head. “I’d wait lifetimes for the one that completes my soul.”

After that, once his knot went down, you two went another round - slower, this time. Not quite as fogged by the lust of your pheromones and ruts and heats, you took the time to hold each other.

You were so overstimulated that you could barely even feel your high, and Choso was fully cumming dry by this point. And yet, he was still raring to go yet another round after that - which ended up with you falling asleep right in the middle of it.

Somewhere in the middle of that, Choso had gotten up to clean you off and gently place fresh sheets over your ruined ones. He’d tucked you into bed, and cradled your tired body- ending up being the small spoon somewhere during the night.

And somewhere in the middle of that, Itadori Jin had come to visit, after some time too long without either you or Choso answering your phones. He’d wondered where you were—and was given the answer to his question the moment he walked into Choso’s bedroom.

Ah.

Young love.

Careful not to wake the two of you, he’d cheered right then and there. He knew it! He knew it, he knew that program would be good for his son. Look at the two of you now! And he almost contemplated taking a picture to commemorate the occasion before thinking better of it.

He left the door cracked as he left.

Yes, probably not. He can take as many pictures as he wants at the wedding.

.

.

.

‘Did you hear that’s the boss’s mate- yes, the fated mate! I know! I thought those things were a myth, too, but everyone knows that they’re fated.’

‘I seriously thought Jin was lying, I mean- our workaholic boss with such a gorgeous mate? Oh, but look at that bite mark on her neck, it’s clear it’s true.’

‘They met on that Scent Companionship Program, didn’t they? You know I signed up the moment I heard-’

‘I still hear they’re planning to elope in Switzerland- yes yes, and they don’t plan on inviting Sukuna, mhm. Oh? You guess he’s going to crash the wedding anyway? Don’t be silly, you don’t have to guess- of course, he’s going to crash the wedding anyway.’

It seems that news of your new bonding had reached the ears of the office. And it was all thanks to Itadori Jin.

Or, well—you tugged on the collar of your shirt. You guessed that the numerous bite marks (and especially that one rather garish one right where your scent gland was) didn’t help, either.

They stared. They whispered.

They tittered as they noticed that you still couldn’t walk entirely straight.

Still, holding your head up high, you nodded your polite greetings at the ogling office staff as you waded your way through them; carefully dodging the probing questions, the stray phone, or the one that asked for an autograph? What was that all about?

Choso, too, seemed to have beared the brunt of the day’s hottest gossip as you finally met him inside the office room. Glancing at the tinted glass of his room that had even more peeping Toms than usual.

“I’ve contracted some people to build an actual wall of concrete there.” Choso sighs, rubbing his aching temples - though, that seems to remedy itself quite quickly when you press a chaste peck there. “Immediately.”

“Long overdue.” You hum.

He nods, “Yes, and I’m also working on getting some sort of barring policy - or perhaps a restriction, I don’t even know if that’s allowed in this case - on a certain someone-”

A/N. A MAN I NEED FRFR-

.

.

.

Your best friend was acting strange.

Given, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for his fawn eyes to linger on you just a little more than what’s considered appropriate for a “friend”, or for him to burn with the prettiest blush whenever you caught him. 

But these days it was almost like he was avoiding you on purpose. 

Taking the longer routes after lectures, being struck pale as a ghost mid-conversation, always muttering away underneath his breath. 

Hell, one day you even had half the mind to jokingly ask him whether he was talking to someone you couldn’t see - to which Choso had sputtered and all but sprinted away from you. 

And here he was right now - towering right at your apartment doorway in just a snug undershirt and the sexiest grey sweatpants.

“Ch-Choso?” Your jaw drops slightly at his disheveled, heaving state. 

Milky skin simmered with a sheen of sweat that made his dark tank top glue to his broad chest, chestnut strands of his bangs falling out of his bun to hide his eyes from you, almost…feverish.

Frantic gaze bouncing off the beefy arm he’d kept leaned over your doorframe for support, “What happened- are you sick? Are you drunk?” A quick glance at the clock showed that it was well past 12AM, “Are you okay, Cho-”

And then he flinches.

Fuck- he flinches as if the sound of that very nickname falling from your cute lips made his entire body shudder with a thousand bolts of lightning. 

Baritone voice hot and murky once he utters, “Baby…”

Oh. 

You could feel the goosebumps starting to slither down your spine already, and you tug nervously at the paper-thin pyjama shirt you had on. Too-aware of the fact that it was the only thing you were wearing other than your thin panties- damn.

Noticing the way that every minute movement of yours seemed to make Choso’s pants grow heavier; you dare to take a step closer, and it only makes him grip onto the mahogany doorway until it splinters. 

Teeth grit. Nostrils flaring. Barely holding himself together.

Gasping, “Cho?”

“I need you.”

“Wha-” And it’s the last thing escaping your mouth before Choso surges forward like he’s being jerked, movements twitchy - desperate - he falls a few steps forward until he’s in your heated proximity. 

Your saccharine scent so sweet that he’d be on his damn knees if you hadn’t clawed a hand on one of his flexing biceps- a gruff whimper departing from Choso’s plush, pink lips. “K-kiss me.” 

Oh, fuck.

You watch with a carnal sort of desire at the way that he scorches with a breezing blush all the way from the tips of his ears, down to his collarbones. Fisting your dominant hand in the flimsy cotton of your best friend’s undershirt, just the tiniest, weakest tug makes him gulp.

Now that he started, he couldn’t stop.

“Kiss me- kiss me, p-please.” He’s finally darting his hazy peripheries up from the floor to look at you, you, and only you. Dragging in a deeeep breath of your air, his half-lidded pupils were begging- “Kiss me, baby.”

You’re humming, the curved edges of your fingertips curling ‘round Choso’s nape and pulling him in. 

He’s melting.

He’s melting and melting into the kiss - as if he’d been dreaming of this for just as long as you have. Even longer. 

Strong, sturdy hands wrapping around your waist to tug you against his hardened front, you gasp at the sweltering hot temperature he was radiating. Already feeling beads of perspiration starting to form across your forehead-

He’s sucking in a sharp breath, “Need to- need to tell you something.” 

Words huffin’ out through glides of his berry-pink lips across yours, each one wrenching out like it pained him to part from your candied mouth with each sloppy mwah! Blindly, he slams the door shut with the heeled back of his foot. “There’s- a- a thing-”

You’re grinning once his voice breaks - breaks, as soon as you’re sipping on the cold spherical piercing homed at the edge of his tongue like your favorite gummy candy. “A…thing?”

Through a slightly-cracked eyelid, your gaze sinks down between Choso’s thick, meaty thighs. Instantly feeling a wave of sap flood your mouth at the massive cylindrical bulge that tightened his sweatpants uncomfortably.

He was just too cute. 

“A ‘thing’, hm?” You’re breaking off to smirk, twisting a silky lock of his hair around your index in a way that makes the looming man in front of you shiver. Chasing and chasing your lips- he was so weak for you. 

Giving in, you’re just about getting ready to kiss your best friend silly once more - but what meets your ravenous mouth isn’t his soft, plump lips anymore. 

No, it doesn’t even feel human. 

What instead greets you is something frigid and slimy. Something that crushes you to him with a strength tenfold of what Choso had been using - almost animalistic - until you’re lurching back and gaping at the fact that your feet were now dangling almost two whole feet off of the ground.

Snapping your head to his face and- 

What…the…f-

“Don’t scream!” In a startling split-second, that black mass of goop masking Choso’s face slithers away in tiny tendrils to reveal, well, Choso. 

And honestly, you’re not sure if that wants to make you scream even more or just shuts you up completely. But whilst you ogle whatever it is in front of you, Choso keeps plowing on. 

“This- ah, this is what I meant by a…thing.” He’s stammering out nervously, dark brows crinkling with nervousness as he watches on for your reaction. “Basically- a few weeks ago- my body got infected by this alien thing- a ‘symbiote’, it said, and I-”

“Improved.”

You’re feeling that temptation to exhaust your lungs with yells once more as Choso’s swallowed up within that dark matter. 

Muscular and big. 

Except this time it was formulating a mouth - all wide and decorated in tiny, jagged canines - and slanted white eyes with not a pupil in sight. A dexterous tongue gliiiides down the crevice of its sharp mouth, glittered with strands of slobber. “We are Venom, pretty girl. And you smell…”

Venom’s voice was deep. Coarse. A rumbling bass that made the very bottom of your stomach quiver- you’re distracted only by the growling sniff he lets out. Monstrous ivory eyes locked right between your heated core-

“-delicious.”

Oh…he was reaching well near eight feet and twitching from the inside out once Choso fights to regain control. 

“A-as you can see-” Smiling sheepishly down at you - you blink, and your best friend was suddenly back. Eyes hooded, mouth snarling, looking ruined. What the fuck. “-he really seems to like your scent and it’s driving me-”

“Stop talking, boy, and mate the girl.”

“Shut up.” 

You blink almost owlishly in disbelief, and in something…else, as you feel your thighs clench together. A slight motion that Venom surely doesn’t miss, if the way that Choso’s lungs heave with more gulps of your sweet, sweet leaking pheromones was anything to go by.

And then, you’re finally piping up– “Let…let me see that tongue of Venom’s again?”

.

.

.

“A-are you sure? W-we’re best friends, and I’ve never…”

You’d be rolling your eyes at the repeated question if it wasn’t for the fact that Choso Kamo just looked so pretty when he was knelt obediently at the very foot of your bed. 

A thin sliver of sweat sliding down his temple, breaths coming out in heated gusts, slender hands balling into a fist and shivering once you smear your legs open just a fraction more. Twitching, white-knuckled like he was forcing himself to not just ruin you right then and there. 

“Mhm.” You’re nodding, and the very action is enough for him to snap his eyes down where your cotton panties were starting to dampen and swallow. “Please, handsome- don’t be coy.”

It was almost too good to be true. 

But, fuck, Choso wasn’t waiting around ‘till he wakes up from this dream.

With so much pent-up eagerness that he felt his lips twist into a sleazy grin- Choso’s crawling himself the few inches it was to stuff himself nose-deep between your pretty legs. 

“O-oh.”

First it was the tiniest tug on your restless hips, then it was a sniff- and then it was a bite of his honed, glossy pearly whites over the lacy lil’ bow homed on the hem of your underwear. A throaty groan snarling through his teeth– “Oh, baby…”

That did it-

Quick as a flash, he’s snagging his teeth on the flimsy fabric of your panties and all but tearing it off of you. Rip-rip-ripping to simply push its tatters to the side, Choso doesn’t even fully take it off before he was simply drooooling. 

Gulping and gulping the scent of your leaking hole. 

“Sweet.” He gasps out, words taking on a dark edge. And you swear the chocolate color of his irises looked as if they were almost glowing, “So sweet.”

“Hurry, the symbiote hungers.”

Sharp jaw ticking as he ignores Venom’s request, the fattened pad of his thumb spanks down on your swollen pussylips and spreads you all wide open. Cock twitching at the deafening wet squelch! that chimes once he gathers copious wads of saliva and spits. 

All over your lustrous cunt, slicking out a mess so great that it was already starting to form a puddle underneath your silken sheets. 

“And mine.”

“Tch.”

And Choso wasn’t just greedy - he was outright gluttonous. 

“You…you taste this sweet, baby?”

“Oh- ohhhh fuck–!” You’re shrilling out a syrupy moan once his chilly tongue piercing flicks at the tippy-top hood of your clit like a lollipop. Taking extra care to press down hard so that it has you thrashing-

“There? S’that good?” He’s roaming his mouth over your puffed-up lips eagerly, yearning. Not knowing what he was doing, just addicted. “You’re so wet, baby- s’this for me- r-really, really f’me?”

He just couldn’t believe it- and the only answer he’s getting is a few soft gasps of oh! and yes! Spit n’ whines overflowing your tongue with every slap of his textured tastebuds. You couldn’t help but nod your head down and admire just how drunken Choso was as he’s suckin’ away on your perky clit. 

The hollows of his cheeks sucked-in and flushed red, spit-glossed mouth wrapped snugly ‘round your sensitive nub. 

You’re whimpering, head thrown back at the grunts he muffles out between your legs. 

“M-more, Cho–” You mewl out in a tone that makes his tensed hips rut forward like an animal, immediately grinding against the firm base of your bedframe. Fuck. Snaking a hand down to intertwine with his mussed-up bangs, and tugging them free of his bun- “Wan’ more.”

“More.”

“Hear that? I wanna taste.”

His tongue’s so thirsty - throat so parched - that it lets out the most sinful sluuuuurp at the very first slobbery drag from the dewy base of your quivering pussy, openin’ up your plump folds so widely agape to lather down on the very top of your clit. 

Nodding and nodding and nodding- grinding up to tease the mushy tip of his tongue past your slippery folds just the tiniest bit. “More- please.”

And it’s not like Choso didn’t hear you - fuck, it’s that you’d broken him.

Because it happens in a singular nanosecond, it happens so fast you’re seeing cartoonish stars in your vision when he’s hauling you halfway across the bed like some glorified ragdoll. 

Thighs thrown over his shoulder, trembly hands guided through his sweaty scalp, mouth wolfish- 

“Keh. No wonder you’re a virgin, boy.”

“Sh-shut up.” He’s answering out loud, sending the most electric buzzes down your spine as he nips on the fleshy slope of your pussylips. His own ears pop! as the pointed curve of his chin hits your treacly cunt with a smack of skin-on-skin, so deep. Nose-deep till those lined tattoos on his face. 

Ready to suffocate if he has to.

“Oi- give me a taste, and I’ll give her…more.”

Upper lip glueing to your pussy, Choso’s making you scream every time the sharp ends of his fangs snag on your clit. “Shut up shut up shut up-‘

“Ch-Cho?” Fuck, it takes you every ounce of strength in your body to lift your head up from your creaky bedsprings. Glassily eyeing the way that his grip on your hips turns bruising with semi-circular claw-marks of his, “Everything hah! alright?”

And shit- he breaks off slightly from your dripping wet pussy once- twice. Thrice, each n’ every time letting off a pained grunt that forces him back to stuff himself at his favorite spot between your legs.

He couldn’t even break off to speak. To breathe.

Still murmuring his response at the outer edges of your saturated core, with so many numerous strings of slick dangling from his rovering, swollen lips. Gingerly, “It’s V-Venom, he…wants a taste too.”

“Oh.”

And shit- Choso didn’t need Venom’s superhuman abilities to notice the instant that you’re growing so much wetter. A silky torrent of sap gushing out of you to lacquer your inner thighs like a fountain, already making him lurch- and suck and suck up every pearly droplet.

“I…” You’re starting off, lip chewed underneath your teeth in a way that almost makes him jealous. The memory of his extravagant tongue still fresh in your mind, “-wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh? Well…”

“-about time.”

As Choso lets Venom take over, you can’t help but gasp.

Oh, you were never getting used to this. 

He was about two feet taller, hulking, monstrous. And the only thing more lecherous than that toothy grin he wore was his tongue - sliiiiding out all its endless inches and swaying teasingly to n’ fro in midair. Big. 

So, so big. 

“Eyes…” He’s looming over until scalding hot breath humidifies your features, tonality so gruff that it rumbles your very bones. Oh, he already knows of his effect on you - can flick his tastebuds out and taste it in the saccharine air. “Lungs…pancreas…”

The curly, reddened end of it stingingly slapping down on your thigh, Venom’s tongue is oh-so-long enough that he can lace it all over your shivering leg and wrench them further and further open–

“Pussy.”

And then it feels like you’re being split apart- just a few solid, thorough inches of Venom’s slimy tongue burrowing past your puffy folds, keeping your jolting legs pinned firmly by a few of his Stygian spirals. 

One taste. One taste is all it takes. 

You’re being rendered utterly stupid by the swashing flicks of his pointed muscle stirrin’ up your insides, wriggling in circular slurps around and around and around your gummy walls. Scarfing you down until his tongue reaches the very gooey bottom of your cunt and kisses your cervix. 

So hard that you’re pushed up the mattress and he’s forced to wrap a few tendrils that reel you back down again. 

“Heh, finish line.”

“What- oh…oh my god-” Tears drip down in constant rivers from your heavy lids, wailing whimpers breaking off from your larynx at every smack-smack-smack he left on that spongy end. Further pushing aside your panties, retracting aaaaaalll the way back to thruuuust- “Y-your tongue is sooo big.”

“So many snacks. How good.” He’s tittering out with a thundering pant, spiked ends of his canines littering your skin with gnawing bites. “How delicious. How…”

He’s sloshing his tongue almost aggressively inside, whacking your g-spot in-between his barreling journey to fuck you with his tongue just as much as he wanted to with his cock. 

Lolling sloppily, thrusting, dragging the ridges of his tastebuds across your g-spot. 

And it takes you a few more vulgar strokes, it takes you the sound of that familiarly melodic voice for you to flap your tear-heavy lashes open and finally look once more between your legs. “-mine.”

It’s almost as if both Choso and Venom couldn’t decide on who wanted to make out with your soft, candied pussy more. 

Because it was your best friend’s pretty upper half of his face peeking out from between your splattered legs, but Venom’s mouth that was pumpin’ addictively past your rubbery entrance. Over and over. 

“N-ngh pleeease!” Comes out your repeated record of whines, every mushy gyration so good that you can’t help but rock into every second of his frenzied cadence. Creeping down one of your hands to smear your pussylips wider with a soppy slurp so that he could go even deeper, “I-it’s so good- don’t stop don’t stop.”

And the look in Choso’s dark eyes is the most raw glint of disbelief that you’ve ever seen.

Unsteady thighs clenching as he hits his v-line against the wooden board of your bed and grinds, unwilling to angrily fist his raging cock the way he ached n’ leaked to, unwilling to take his hands off of you for a mere second.

“N-no no, move that hand, baby. Lemme see her- Please.” You’ve never seen your cute best friend dare to be so rude- urgently swatting away those few fingers of yours to replace with his own knobbly, greedy ones. 

Pressin’ on your weeping, swollen clit with the flat end of his digit - you’re coating his chipped black nail polish with so many layers of goopy slick that it trickles down to his wrist. 

And oh, you’d almost forgotten just got many frigid metal rings that Choso wore on his hot fingers. Sappily nuzzling the inside of your left thigh the very moment he’s slipping his middle past your widely messy hole and curling–

 “How could I? How c-could I stop?” He’s muttering away - octaves higher than you’re used to, hitting and hitting your bruised and battered g-spot at the very same tempo that Venom was, too.

Double whack after whack that made your spine arch curvaceously off of the dampened mattress, icy edges of his rings scraping your walls. Choso just salivates at the heavenly sight of you below him, “How could you even- think- I’m-”

“-addicted.”

And Venom chooses just this precise moment to make your stupidly muddled mind remember his presence until you can’t think at all. 

Prolonging his plumply constricted tongue - using his symbiotic powers and extending it even more feet stuffed inside your tightly cozy walls, slashing the very tip to become split-ended. 

“Pretty. Pretty pussy.” He’s groaning out carnally, and your throat rips with a scream once he’s starting up a thrusting pace that flicks at your weeping cunt with those two slithering ends of his monstrous tongue. “Don’t know who’s prettier- you or…”

You’re shivering then - shivering at the windy gust of air inhaled once Venom tugs you even closer by his black coils and sniffs. Breath hot, his French kiss on your pussy hotter. “-her.”

“Fuck- fuck, you’re making such a mess, Choso.”

“Mhmmmm—”

Shifting between both his tongue and Venom’s - every transformation had you dizzy. Alternating between Venom’s hard, almost violent thrusts with his split-end tongue to Choso’s sensual tickling of his piercing into your most favorite spots. 

Glittery slick and spittle dripping down like a glazing polish, Choso’s swallowing down every sweet gumdrop like he’s a man starved. 

Like a damn dog in heat, every pant of the honeyed pheromones between your legs was driving him fucking mad. Making his hips thrust-

“Sh-she’s drooling almost as much as ngh- me, baby.” He’s fighting back that damn parasite for more more more of you- for every squelch! once he’s mazing his second, third lengthy finger inside. 

Searching for your g-spot like treasure trove - hitting and hitting, you’re so pretty and gone that Choso’s chuckling. “Ride it.” Pap-pap-pap goes his hits to your delicate, most tender spots, faster. “Ride it- yeah, ride m’f-face like it’s yours, baby- ride it.”

“S-shoooo much–” And you don’t know whether it’s the torrents of slicked saliva falling from your mouth or the sheer overstimulation that has you jumbling up your syllables - but it’s enough to make both Choso and Venom grin. “It’s so ngh- haaaa–”

“She’s close.”

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s spitting into your drooling lips, right above your pulsating nub. Ringed digits so thick that it makes your knees shake and weaken. Sloppy. “Faster. Harder. Use me, baby-”

Again and again and again.

Your brain’s fuzzily stupid by the time you finally recognize that familiar twist at the bottom of your tummy, too. Blubbering out an unsteady, “P-please! M’not gonna- ngh! last, Cho.”

“I know- I know I know I know– make a mess.” He’s spitting out once more, letting a wad of saliva stream straightly down your slit and liiicking it all up before Venom overtakes him to keep on probin’ your entrance fully. Swirling every speckled tastebud until it was like the symbiote was trying to brand you–

And with a gluttonous swipe at the fresh beads of slick homed on top of your nub, Choso wastes no time before pinching your clit- 

“Cum. Cum on my tongue, baby. Mine.”

-and making your field of vision simply shatter with tears once you’re crashing into that built-up high. 

“Shit- shiiiiit. I-it feels so good, Cho- I’m- nghhh I’m…” It was an orgasm like no other- fuck, any of your toys were paling in comparison to Choso and his…parasite. 

Fully himself now, you gawk with your mouth unlatched into a sagging oh! at the primal way that Choso’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs with each eager swallow. Thin lines of sappy slick falling from the pink, puckered corners of his lips and waterfalling all down the side of his damn throat. 

“Th-tha’s it-” His sopping wet tongue drags uuuup n’ down your open folds to trawl you through your euphoria, every lolling flick of the curled end jostling against your thoroughly-stuffed folds.

Pumping, pounding your glutinous walls until they’re sticking to his barreling digits like adhesive, the metallic band curving his fingers smooches your g-spot softly. Dimly-lit molten eyes widening at the sheer ribbons of sap you’re letting off with every white-hot bolt of pleasure.

“This- this is all f’me–?” He’s crooning out, dazed. Letting his jaw fall open with every quiver you’re instinctively clenching with your cunt, “All for me- me. More- more, baby.”

“For me, you mean.”

Choso- Venom- Choso just keeps on alternating their slobbering drags of your hips until you’re completely wrung dry. Even the tiniest spank of their rugged tastebuds making you squeal with overstimulation, tears pinpricking behind your eyes. 

“Aw, c-c’mon–” Your best friend slurs out in a tingling, pussydrunken tone - so gone that his perspired head falls n’ cuddles your thigh. Begging, “M-more…?”

“But Cho…m’sensitive.”

And he’s perking his head up like the thought didn’t even occur to him - only then do you get a final, filthy look at your best friend after so long. 

Grinning, he sucks on each of his polished, soppy fingers. Each and every one - looking right into your dilated pupils, “That was my first time.”

Fuck.

He was pretty. 

Granted, you always did know that, but right now - with Choso’s dark strands of hair hooding his half-opened gaze, what little you could see of his eyes gleaming, cheekbones burning scorched red - he was dreamy.

He’s wearing your saccharine wads of slick like a medal of honor. 

Thickly coating everywhere from the tattoo on his nose, to the lower half of his face, to bubble all down his jaw. A slippery wire of it spills from the corner of his mouth as it starts moving, an almost airy tone seeping into his voice. “I-I’m never wiping this off- hey!”

Before he knows it, Venom’s tendrils dart out to filthily lick off the remnant excess his host cherished so much.

Grinning, “Delicious.”

Fighting back his damn alien acquaintance, you stifle a giggle as Choso’s rosy lips jut out into a pout. Lifting his knee onto the bed- well, grindin’ it right between your legs so that he’s putting pressure on your throbbing slope. 

Fleshy thumb and index squeezing your cheeks together, “Spit in my mouth.”

“Wh-what?”

“Spit-” His sweaty forehead sticks against yours, humid breath clouding up your senses. And you could count every long lash, every smudge of his dark eyeliner. Hiccuping, “-in my mouth.”

And the moment you do- fuck, the moment you’re pursing your spit-glued lips to let out a saccharine web of saliva that slops right down his pinkish tongue with a splat! So loud and filthy and sinful that Choso only as the time to breath out a shallow ‘fuck!’ before he’s cumming.

Burning hot and feverish. Right then and there to create a dripping damp spot in his trousers- “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit- you’re t-too-”

“Great going, virgin.”

“Shut up-” Choso grits through clenched teeth, desperately trying to heave his breaths back into some semblance of normalcy. Failing, once you immediately reach over and tug his sweatpants down-

He was cumming and cumming so much that you’re met with a white, streaming wet mess that gleams down both of Choso’s meaty thighs. They’re shivering with each ribbony string of seed that oozes down his long limbs, “O-oh, so pretty, Cho.”

“Oho? She’s an interesting one.”

“I-I know…”

And you’re not just talking about his orgasm.

Because when you’d imagined - on those long, lonely nights - that your best friend would be big…you didn’t expect that he’d be big. 

Damn near ten- no, maybe even eleven inches of fat, hot girth that swelled his mushroomy tip to be as cutely pink as a strawberry and just as thick. 

Your mouth waters as you follow the winding lightning patterns of his puffy veins, oh-so-prominently bloated that you swear you could count every throb-throb-throb. 

And what- what was that?

No, you weren’t imagining it. Choso Kamo had a tiny studded Prince Albert’s piercing right near the tip-top of his bulging cockhead. Cold and sparkling underneath the dim bedroom lighting. 

Mindlessly, you’re darting over to swipe one of your thumbs across a creamy bead of cum that’d started drenching his dark happy trail.

“O-oh.” Choso grunts at the look on your gorgeous face once he’s letting his chubby balls twitch n’ soak your skin with yet another splurging streak of seed. Again. Just from you touching him. “No one’s ever touched me like this- fuck!”

And you just had to find out whether he tasted as sweet as he looked.

Planting your mouth over his juice-capped head with a wet plop! you hum with utter delight at the caramel salted taste of him. Aching and pulsing underneath his piercing with just the tiniest kitten lick to his leaking orifice. 

“Do it, boy.”

“Wh-what?”

“Do it. I’m inside your mind, do it.”

And Choso really wouldn’t have considered being that rude - really. 

He really, really wanted to take his time slow n’ sultry with the one person who’s been the girl of his dreams from the moment he met you.

But fuck- Venom was jerking his body so that with the slightest rock, he’s rutting like a fucking animal deep inside the hot cavern of your mouth. Staining a milky white lipgloss around your plumpened lips, pushing his seed inside—

Venom wanted to see you choke.

“M-mmpf—!” And you can’t lie about the way the sheer force and heady musk of Choso’s v-line made your thighs squeeze.

“That’s it- cry. Cry on my cock- atta girl.”

“Fuck! I’m sorry-” He’s panicking from above as your pretty nose detaches from the curly black tuft of hair at his toned pelvis. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, baby. Are you-”

Only…for all his concerned apologies to shrivel up on Choso’s tongue when he catches the way you’re smiling. 

Cockdrunk and stinging at the back of your throat with the way that Venom had actually elongated Choso’s already-massive cock just a few more centimeters by accident. Oh, fuck…

The hazed look that’d crept into your eyes as you look up makes the towering man shiver. Striking him to his very cock, “C’mon- fuck me, Cho.”

“C’mon. Don’t wanna disappoint the pretty girl.”

Choso doesn’t even remember getting rid of his undershirt, his sweatpants, everything but his silver rings and necklace - but what he does remember is the way your eyes had widened just the slightest fraction as you took in all of him.

Shit, was he sculpted by the Greek gods or what?

You could count every one of his eight, toned washboard abs - making the broad width of his pecs look so thick. So engulfing as they tense n’ ripple once your best friend slouches sexily on top of you to pull off your cotton t-shirt.

“Oh.” He’s gasping- you’re not wearing a bra. Completely naked underneath him except for the lecherous remnants of your torn panties still hanging on. 

Ones that he keeps on - even when you try to shuffle them down with a whine - once he’s flipping the two of you over to let you straddle his slenderly sculptured hips. 

“Keh- this position.”

“Shut up and watch.”

Blushing and pretty.

Choso’s teary lashes knock against the apples of his cheeks as he blinks furiously up at you, throat scratchily raw. Gulping more of your scent, “R-ride me, baby.”

“Cho–” You’re sliding the mounds of your ass gingerly against his aching hot length, shudders skittering down your spine at the sheer size of him pressing up into you. “Y-you’re so big, though- don’t know if it’ll fit.”

“I’ll make it fit-”

“A-am I actually that big?” He’s whispering, in awe. Watching with damply bated breath as he’s spanking his cock against your right ass cheek with a wet smack! smack! smack!

Pointing that curved, bulbous tip right between your pussylips and sliiiiiding it up n’ down so that you’re coating him in all your sweet juices, Choso’s guiding his girth until your hole was quivering for something - anything. 

Him him him. 

Panting at the first squeeze of his reddened, blushing tip- “Oh, you feel like th-this?” His pitched voice wavers almost as much as his heavy eyelids, falling apart with just that first taste of your perfect cunt. “Fuh-fuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck! Baby- you feel like this?”

This was heaven.

And he’s spurting out a few stray wads of cum just from feeling your velvety walls, letting it thwack! against your goopy innards n’ stick to your trembling folds. 

“You got it- you got it.” Choso’s voicebox cracks with a lil’ whimper at that snug resistance, “You can take it- you can take it. I’ll make it fit.”

“Oh- oh my god- Choso- Cho–!”

“S’it too biiig for my girl, hmm?” Croaking out in unison with the aged bedcoils of your mattress, each and every time Choso jerks his hips off the bed and pushes. Just to fit in. “Baby-” Choso gasps as you throw your head back with a mewl at the sheer size of him.

His painfully-aching cock was so big that just the stoutest inch being bullied inside was enough to make your vision blotch with white. Rounded circumference stretching n’ stretching your slick-flooded walls stupid- “I’m sorry, baby- sorry s’big. But you’re my girl- my girl can take it- you can…you can take it.”

It’s inch by overlarge inch.

Choso’s scraping his way down your walls so sensually that you could feel your fuzzy brain sparking every time one of his prominent veins was draaaagging a zig-zagging pattern along.

Curled toes twitching with each passing second, “S-s’it almost all the way in, baby–?”

“Mhm—” And you’re just letting out the cutest cry once he finally eases himself all the way in, practically impaling you. Head throwing back, tits bouncing, cunt overspilling. 

“Hmmm…maybe this position isn’t so bad.”

Choso didn’t disagree, but it took every single shred of rationality left inside of him to push back Venom’s rasping voice and wrench out a desperate thrust. Allll the way from the globular ends of his ruby-red tip till your sensitive pussy tickled against his soaked-through happy trail.

Tenderly caressing your palm down his hardened front, “I-it’s in–?” Your hitched tone makes his eyes roll back, and yet- and yet, he’s fighting to bring them back down n’ watch your gaped bounces back into his sloppy pace. “It’s in. O-oh my god, c-can feel you all the way in hck! here.”

He’s just so big.

And you’re swearing that Choso only fattens himself even bigger, fatter, wider once you slide your hand about halfway up your tummy. Feeling for that one spot he was bruisin’ right into your spongy cervix.

Biting his lip not to cum again, “Yeah-” You’re jostled ever-so-slightly on top of him as he’s sucking in a deeeep breath, “Yeah yeah yeah- you got it. Y-you better take all of it hngh! Take every. Single. Inch.”

Every vein, every sliding ridge, every throb that was bucked into your readily-awaiting entrance- Choso wasn’t just mazing open your cunt- 

He was spearheading you with such thorough thrusts that made your back curve backwards just so.

“Tch- I’d fuck her even better.”

“No you w-wouldn’t.”

Lazily weaving tendrils start tickling your outer pussy, threatening to slip n’ slide their greedy way past your lips. “Is that a challenge? Summon Venom, if you dare.”

“What’s he saying, Cho?” You coo, tear-shimmered lashes blinking adorably down at his internal argument. And as if he could ever say no to you - hell, the response is dripping from his tongue before he even realizes it.

Grouching out, though he couldn’t deny the way his own cock was jolting at the very idea- “H-he wants a try, too…says he’ll be even better.”

A cockdrunk smile plasters itself onto your face- “Prove it.”

And you were right in your prediction - Venom didn’t just make Choso meaner, it made him bigger. 

So big, in fact, that the bawling tip gently kissin’ your g-spot was instantaneously skidding past to give your cervix a longer, harsher probe. 

So hard that you’re sure there’s now a permanent crater of his exact meaty circumference. And you’re being filled with the distinct feeling that Venom could’ve gone bigger - he just didn’t want to break you…yet. 

Draping across his oversized pectorals, you’re nothing against his over eight foot height. “Y-you…”

Those slimy raven molasses covering his half-fucked face once more to form a rude Cheshire-cat smile. “Me.” Planting an Earth-shattering, mind-numbing ram you’re feeling all the way in your lungs, his pulsing length is so widely thick that Venom has to bite down on his lips and manhandle you for his thrusts to move to and fro. “I am inside your pussy, greedy girl. Me.”

Flicking his dexterous shaft to brush your tingling g-spot, he’s using his powers so much that you could almost feel yourself bonding with the symbiote, with Choso.

“I know every inch, nerve, and spot inside of you. I can make you scream-” Coiling mass contracting to barrel your elastic walls even wider, you’re rightfully crying out at the way he molds himself deliciously into your very walls. 

“Nghhh- fuck! Fuck, y-you’re in sooo deep-”

Stealing your sweetened scent, making him heated. “Hmmm, kiss me.”

But that didn’t mean that your best friend- your…Choso was going down that easy.

In a few more brushstrokes of his ravaging cock against your softest spot - before you can kiss him - Choso’s blinking back the cobwebs of his symbiote so that his face spies out. Only the lower half of his body - his length - partially-covered–

“Keh- annoying.”

“Should’ve- should’ve done this sooner-” He hisses out through a narrowed pant, flecks of spittle flying angrily across the non-existent space between your two faces. “-done this muuuuch sooner- you h-have no idea.”

“O-oh nghhh fuck fuck fuck–” The backs of your thighs ache after every slamming pap! you’re bouncing back into his swervin’ hips. 

Pounding away like he was crazed, every jackhammer only makes Choso grow more feral. Every swab of his prolonged cock inside your silken pussy feral-

His rummaging, fat-tipped shaft was so large that you could feel the way his ridged cockhead scraped your cervix with his studded Prince Albert’s, roaming like a searchlight to spot your most favorite angles.

Eyeliner practically staining down his cheeks now, “Should’ve fuh-fucked you the moment I ngh- met you. Should’ve fucked you r-right there on the lecture table in front of everyone- sh-should’ve—” You’re squealing once his doughy, ringed fingertips dart down to toy with that pretty lil’ clit of yours. “-should’ve let her drive me hck! crazy sooner, baby.”

Oh, he was babbling. 

Cooing, you slither one of your hands through the dampened valleys of his dark hair, “Awww– d-drivin’ you crazy, Cho–?”

“Yes.” He’s seething, he’s heaving. Saturated pheromones driving him mad, he can’t help but flop his pierced tongue across your lips and suck. “S-s’not even that damn parasite anymore-”

Pace growing sloppier by the minute, barely even noticing when those same digits coddling your clit had started to twist and turn in shape. Overtaken by Venom and his meeeean tendrils that alternate between dragging on your overstimulated clit and slipping inside…

“Sh-shit– Venom?”

“Sayin’ another man’s name when I-I’m here- ngh–” Choso’s nosebridge crinkles as he teases you, watery honeypool eyes dropping down to where your glossy hole was swallowing him whole. 

Mouth falling into an ah! at the way Venom’s wisping vines were still wrapped snugly to smooch your walls wiiiide open. And fuck- fuck, the sight. The sight of you bulging with all of his staggering cock still taking in more, more, more of him.

“I see…” He’s giggling - giggling, glassy eyes boring dead-on up at you through his curtained bangs and oh- they were shaped into hearts. Baritone voice rasping as one of his veins itches your walls, snagging past your underwear. “Greedy girl.”

It’s almost as if you didn’t know whether it was Choso or Venom taking over now, only fucked dumb with every sharp jut. Both his cock- his tentacle-like strands spreading you open, targeting your g-spot over n’ over with his plummy, split-ended tip. 

Digging inside, scouring so wetly.

Spread twice as open that the squelch! squelch! squelch! of it resonating each nanosecond was quickly becoming Choso’s favorite song. 

You were damn near shattered.

“I-I’m so close-” You’re hiccuping through your salty tears, brows scrunching at the stormy wave of bliss that was surely oncoming. “-f-fuck! Choso m’gonna cum.”

“Fuck- fuck, m’not gonna last either–” His response comes out guttural, and it’s just so sexy the way that he’s forced to gnaw on the strawberry gummy texture of the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from filling you up right then and there. 

Tender, aching balls squeezing dangerously before-

“Breed her.” Venom’s voice thunders out enough for the both of you to hear, excitement spiking down your spine and straight to where your pussy was drooling. “I know you want to. I know you both want it.”

Shocked, Choso sounds as if he could still barely even believe this was all real. “I-is that true, baby?” Tentatively craning you over to drag his lips softly against yours, “Can I really…inside…my girl?”

“Mhm– please- please, I wan’ it all inside—!” 

“G-get ready.” 

The plush, cushy tip of his cock outlines a water-logged line straight down your cervix as Choso leans further into the bed. Feet planting down flatly so that he can pressurize his powerful, inhuman hips to thrust-

“She’s about t-to be full- so full.” You can feel such pangs of desire as his teeth pull back into a primal snarl, tear-glinted eyes locked permanently where his red, swollen cock was disappearing between your legs. “So full that you won’t even remember what it ngh- feels like w-without me stuffed inside this cunt.”

Squirming with a yearning for sweet, sweet release once he hovers a fingertip over to about halfway up your tummy and draws an invisible line there.

“H-here.” Deepening it with the pressure of his rude digits, Choso’s right hand still rolls over your clit with a few shapes of hearts. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Get ready here–”

Whining, “I’m- I’m gonna-”

Before Venom’s slimy tendrils pinch it once more and you’re cumming- and so is he. 

But Choso doesn’t even realize it - doesn’t even remember to breathe the very moment you’re creaming all down his pummeling cock. Such cute twitches taking over your body as you shut your eyes and riiiide it all out. 

Using his sloppily saturated shaft like a dart that was pokin’ the bullseye of your pussy again and again. Every brushing skid straight across slapping your g-spot repeatedly to drag out your high with a squeeeelch.

And Choso’s licking his lips at the glossy lathering that glued to your folds, then - and only then - catching sight of the dollops of creamy white that was frothing out of your glistening entrance. 

Thick and hot. 

Every splat! of his ribbony sap hits the back of your pussy like heavily condensed cream, swashing inside of you like a sizzling second skin. It feels so filthy to have his mess beading down your walls and forming such a soaking ring ‘round his bulky hilt. 

Your meaty folds spread to smear the puddle that was forming up his happy trail, “You- you feel so good inside.”

“O-oh-” Almost thankful as Venom’s dark strands push aside your torn, sullied panties further for his host to take a better look. Blushing all the way to the tattoos across his nosebridge, “A…a creampie.” 

He’d cum- he’d really, really cum - inside of you. Pressing down on the prettily jiggling tummy bulge he was fucking into you- and it’s enough to make you scream. “Want more.”

And you’re just tapering off from your own orgasm, eardrums nearly popped yet still managing to register those words. Clenching, “Wh-what? Will it- hngh- even fit, Choso?”

“No- nononono it will- it will.” Urgent, rapidly he’s flipping the two of you immediately over to hover on top of you and rut- like an animal. 

You’re gasping once your head plops down on the soft mattress, heels struggling to cling onto Choso’s sweat-laminated hips until he’s trekking his beefy arms underneath and hauling them over his shoulders. Bending, bending, bending into a–

Oh, a mating press. 

He had you manhandled like some lawnchair into a mating press. The sloppiest of its kind, he’s using Venom’s tendrils to lock your ankles together in just two blinks of his eye.

“I can make it fit–” Growling through the tiniest gaps of his grit pearly whites, he kisses his forehead to yours and inhales that sweet scent of yours still permeating the heady air. The chilly heard pendant of his necklace hits the front of your chin and makes you keen. Rough, rugged through punctuating rams, “I will- I will I will- it’ll fit- It will.”

Shivering and shuddering. 

He struggles to even focus his eyesight on you properly - and Choso’s heated maw droooops at the deafening squelch! your pussy pushes out once he sinks all the way back in.

A thick capping of white syrup rising all the way to the top once his massive girth once more fills out your every nook and cranny. He’s still so ravenous that the sight down there is enough to make his mouth water. 

And this position, this angle made Choso’s elongated shaft lean into your g-spot so bruisingly that with only a few more strokes you’re cumming again. 

Fleeting, and faster than you both know it.

It’s only once Choso sniffs at the air and grins that he realizes the rapidly pulsing ba-dump–! of your velveteen walls was because you’re bein’ his good girl and cumming once more. 

Heavy breeder balls striking the treacly slope of your cunt until they were raw and red - you’re sure that the both of you are bruised everywhere. His thighs on your own, your ass on his pelvis, you can’t even wriggle your ankles free because Venom’s keeping a firm grip on them.

Rendering you at the full mercy of Choso’s thrashes dragging out your high, “P-please- fuck- it just f-feels too good, Cho-!”

“S’good- s’good-” He’s flushing out in something that looks like a mix of relief and need. No sooner milking himself on your tightly clenched pussy until you’re being filled all over again.

This time with white, wispy ropes of seed that ache his sensitive shaft to spray out, still coating your gummy walls with viscid layers upon layers. So much.

“So good f’me- so good. Look how much sh-she’s ngh- suckin’ in, sooooo full and- and warm…” He was practically twitching right now, trembling. “Jus’ look at that greedy girl.”

You couldn’t even be moved without feeling all its wads splosh inside of you.

And he still wanted more. 

Yelping, your legs struggle to shut once his sloppy cadence turns even sloppier. Lazier. 

“O-one more-” Choso’s puffing out in a clouded pant, “Keep- keep those pretty legs hck! open f’me- I beg. M’begging- take it, baby.”

Vein-covered forearms placing attractively upon either side of your head to lace right on top of your crowned scalp and push- Weaving wines of the symbiote winding down to furiously pump his cock.

To bloat himself up oh-so-thick straight after two whole orgasms, flying up and down up and down up and down to make his cherry-red divot start weeping once more. “One more- one more.”

“Nghh fuck fuck- Choso–!” Your lower lip wobbles cutely at the carnal glissade of his washboard abs down your own front, he was so strong that you could count every flex and ripple. “S-shooo sensitive-” Eyes shuttering tearfully, you can only jerk your hips up weakly. “-so much. Too much.”

“Never too much.”

Venom’s voice speaks up from somewhere, and you’re feeling the snaking, slimy journey of his tendrils twistin’ around your tits to grope. A greedy handful that teases your hardened nipples so–

“Less talking. More fucking.”

“W-woah-” Choso breathes at the sight before him. You were ruined in only ways he’d seen in his wettest dreams - and it’s not like he was doing any better. Because the way your hips were moving…“B-birthing hips- look at h-her take that big fuckin’ cock. So pretty- so pretty so pretty so pretty.”

You’re so overstimulated that even the slightest brush of his lightning bolted veins makes you gasp- tears springing up to your eyes. “F-feels so…oh.” So good, his stamina was maddening. 

“Yeah? Yeahhh? S’all for you- only for you-” Purposefully pressing up close so that your poor clit gets rubbed over by that patch of tawny brown at the base of his abs. 

And by now, even Choso’s swivellin’ cold piercing was molten hot and drawing wet slides of cum across your walls. Fervently. 

He was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough - would never possibly be able to get enough. Every thrust had him pushing you down once more after the papping recoil, gliding your feverishly sweat-slicked bodies against each other because Choso couldn’t bear to part. “Only for you only for you only for you-”

So gone that he almost doesn’t even register Venom’s deep tone muttering in his ear– “Three.”

Every heated bang of his mushroomy tip plummeting to the back of your overspilling cunt was meant to milk himself. Over and over, he’s tempting out just one more orgasm - just one more to fill you up with more cream. “Two.”

And in your rambling stupor, you’re being drilled into the mattress so spellbound that you don’t even notice the way your unfastened mouth nibbles on Choso’s sexy silver necklace. 

“One.”

Gnawing on for dear life as you squirt.

“Oh.”

Simply spraying him with a voluminous heap of your sweet, sappy juices - Choso has the mindless audacity to crane his head even further downwards and catch whatever stray remnants hit his awaiting maw.

“F-fuck…” You feel like you’ve just been put through ten thousand wringers and milked dry from your poor, tingling core. Gushing and gushing- it’s almost embarrassing how much you’re leaking around Choso’s meaty base. 

Well, embarrassing for everyone but Choso…and Venom.

He was mesmerized - he was hypnotized. A glistening few droplets of pussydrunken drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as he just watched himself get drenched in all your torrential orgasm whilst he emptied out for the third- fourth, fuck he doesn’t even know - inside you.

Raw, and messy - milking himself until he’s hitting a damn dry orgasm. 

“O-oh.” Choso doesn’t even know what to fucking say above your cutely trilling mewls, every languid pump of his flinching cock sending massive shockwaves through both of you. He blushes, “Oh.”

“That was fun. Now, make her yours or I will.” Venom grumbles, the symbiote already starting to take over Choso’s body with its blackened mass. 

And the man jolts- remembering all at once that this was you you you underneath him. Thumb absent-mindedly reaching down to write his last name over the mess spurted across your tummy. 

You, who he’s wanted all his life- 

“M-marry me, my girl.”

The smile that breaks across your face is one he’ll remember for eons. 

“I love you, too, Cho–” You’re purring, tucking one of the mahogany strands plastered onto his forehead behind his ear. 

“I love you.” He’s bursting out at once- rose-pink lips wobbly and wet against your own. He’s kissing you like he needed you to breathe, “I love you- oh, how I love you.”

“Satisfying. But we need more.” 

“Dammit.”

And Venom doesn’t care - Venom cackles to himself as he seethes in yet another gust of your honey-dipped scent and pulls out. The sensitivity startling through your body is so shocking that he’s shooting out a dark web that attaches your hips to the bed. Unmoving. 

But, of course, he takes his leisurely time to stroll near the edge of your bed. Monstrously hulking over it to sweep apart your bloated pussylips and watch the way Choso’s cum driiiiips out.

Now completely encompassing his body— “A three course meal. Yum.”

He was far from done.

You’re sobbing at the sloooooow draaaag of his glistening, large tastebuds down your weeping hole. Unapologetic and primal. “F-fuck! Your stamina…” It was truly monstrous just how pent-up that he was right now, being pushed off by your new boyfriend- fiancé? for so long now.  

Holding you tight with a few tendrils ‘round your waist to keep you from running—

“We’re going to keep this one.” His long, venomous teeth sink into your inner-thigh, not toxic to you. Not at all, but claiming; and the feeling was as good as cumming again. “You’re ours now, pretty girl.”

A/N. RAHHH I TOLD Y’ALL I’D DO IT MWAHAHAHAH-

The bedroom was cloaked in stillness, the only sound the faint whisper of your steady breathing. Byakuya couldn't tear his eyes away from you, lying there fast asleep beside him. Even in slumber, you radiated an almost regal poise - back straightened by years of disciplined nobility, features composed into a serene mask of quiet confidence.

Just looking at you was enough to stir that familiar ache in Byakuya's chest. The one he tried so hard to suppress these days, burying it beneath the responsibilities and traditions he clung to like anchors in a stormy sea. But the truth was becoming harder and harder to ignore with each passing night spent at your side.

He was in love with you. Hopelessly, painfully, desperately in love.

The realization would have been terrifying enough on its own. But the true fracture in Byakuya's stolid facade came from the fact that after nearly a century of sharing this marriage bed and household with you...he remained utterly uncertain whether you returned even a shred of those feelings.

Your union had been one of pure pragmatism from the very start, after all - a business arrangement between the Kuchiki and your clan, nothing more. Two proud noble houses joined by political motivations rather than any sense of romantic affection or sentimentality. You had both agreed to those terms readily, never wavering in upholding the boundaries of polite cordiality between married partners.

No consummation or intimacy beyond the bare minimum required for public appearance's sake. Only the singular, chaste kiss exchanged during the ceremonial binding of your vows all those decades ago. An unspoken acknowledgment that this convenient partnership held no deeper meaning.

At least, that was what Byakuya had believed when you had first agreed to the arrangement. He would be lying if he claimed the idea hadn't stung a bit back then, still haunted by the ghost of his beloved Hisana even years after her passing. But you had been his dearest friend since childhood, his confidante and the one person who understood the heavy mantle of duty both of you carried.

If this rational partnership was the way to honor your family obligations while still retaining that precious bond...well, Byakuya had accepted it as a worthwhile compromise.

Until now, that was.

Now, as he stared at the delicate rise and fall of your chest with each quiet inhalation...as he drank in the elegant line of your throat and the slightly parted serenity of your lips...Byakuya found his carefully constructed walls of restraint crumbling like sodden papier-mâché in the deluge.

He ached to reach out and caress the soft skin of your cheek with the barest whisper of his fingertips. To bestow the kind of tender, adoring touch two people intimately bound were supposed to share without condition or self-imposed barriers. Most of all, he burned with the need to finally, finally lean across that maddening divide and capture your lips with his own in a searing release of all the wanting he’d silently endured for decades.

The thought caused a familiar flare of heat to spread through Byakuya's core, settling like molten embers in his loins as his eyes raked shamelessly across your sleeping form. How many times had he lain awake just like this, jaw clenched and fists knotted in the sheets as his tortured mind supplied increasingly vivid fantasies of what your body might feel like pressed against his? Of the breathy gasps and unraveling expressions he could tease from your features with each doting caress and sinuous shift of intimate, tangled limbs?

Countless. The answer was countless, relentless iterations - each more depraved and indulgent than the last.

Sometimes, in his most lascivious reveries, Byakuya allowed himself to picture taking you fully and completely as his wedded wife in truth. Of burying his aching length within your welcoming heat over and over until your hoarse cries painted the very air itself with ecstasy. Of feeling your nails scoring fire along the straining cords of his back as he devoted every ounce of himself to mapping your body's every secret erogenous plateau with fervent, open-mouthed worship.

He fantasized about losing himself so deeply in the throes of your shared passions that even coherent thought became an impossibility. About giving himself over to that feral, primal part of his soul that sang for nothing more than to claim you, ravish you, seed you with his issue in the most profane yet somehow sacred of acts.

Byakuya's breath caught in his throat as he felt the telltale stirrings of arousal needling at his groin, precipitated by those wanton daydreams that always seemed to slither in unannounced. He clenched his jaw hard enough for the tendons to strain in his neck, fighting off the growing urge to reach down and alleviate the steadily blooming ache with his own hand.

Because he knew that would only be a temporary balm, one that failed to come anywhere close to satiating the true source of this fevered, all-consuming hunger. The one solution that remained stubbornly, infuriatingly out of his reach due to years and years of accepted boundaries and ingrained propriety between you both.

In the end, Byakuya settled for clenching the bedsheets in a white-knuckled grip until his quickened breaths evened out and the lancing jolts of desire settled into a steady, smoldering thrum. All the while, his eyes remained resolutely trained on your sleeping figure, hungrily cataloging every detail as if it were the first and final time he would be permitted such an unguarded view.

Like every night preceding this one, Byakuya would persevere in silent, aching torment rather than risk shattering the delicately restrained dynamic you had both sworn yourselves to upholding. No matter how corrosive the fires of ardor raging within him might become.

He was the head of the Kuchiki Clan, after all, steeped in honor and tradition down to his very marrow. To act on these deviant urges, to forsake the promise you had made and the boundaries you both tacitly agreed to all those years ago...it would be an unforgivable, disgraceful surrender to weakness.

No matter how much his soul screamed for the exquisite release of reciprocated intimacy and desire, he would remain steadfast. Even if it meant suffering the agonizing pangs of perpetual, unrequited yearning until his dying breath.

At least, those were the maudlin affirmations Byakuya kept repeating in a desperate internal mantra as his eyes finally drifted closed, immense weariness settling over him like a shroud. Tomorrow, he would bury these tumultuous cravings once more, as he had every single day preceding this ill-fated descent into torturous infatuation.

But tonight...tonight, he would allow himself to indulge in the exquisite agony of loving you from afar for just a little while longer. To burn with smoldering embers of infinite wanting that may very well consume him entirely if left to their own insatiable devices much longer.

Byakuya's eyes fluttered open to the pale light of dawn filtering through the bedroom window. He blinked a few times, momentarily disoriented, before the soft sounds of movement from the adjoining bathroom brought everything sharply into focus.

You were awake already, no doubt freshening up and preparing for the day ahead like the steadfastly disciplined woman you were. Just the thought of you sent a flicker of heat stirring low in Byakuya's belly.

Almost of its own volition, his gaze drifted down to the tent his morning wood had pitched beneath the sheets pooled around his waist. He bit back a groan, simultaneously aroused and dismayed by his body's instinctive reaction.

For nearly a century, he'd been waking up like this more often than not - cock straining eagerly against the fabric restraints, aching and full just from the promise of another day spent in your maddening proximity. At this point, Byakuya had lost count of how many times he'd been forced to silently take himself in hand and reduce the swollen, throbbing length to a pitiful, dribbling spent mess while imagining it was your tight clenching heat milking him instead of his calloused palm.

Lost track of the mornings where he'd emerged from heated fantasies of pinning you beneath him and driving into that welcoming slick over and over, relishing your desperate whimpers and pleas for more echoing off the bedroom walls. Or the ones where he bent you over the closest surface and took you from behind like a lust-crazed beast, savoring the sight of his cock disappearing into that perfect, dripping cunt again and again.

Byakuya shuddered hard, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white. Even now, those filthy thoughts and scenarios were playing out in vivid detail in his mind's eye, stoking his desire into an insistent throbbing demand.

The soft click of the bathroom door sliding open jolted him from his indecent reverie. You stepped out, already dressed and regarding him with that carefully neutral expression you always wore.

"Good morning," you greeted him simply, as if he wasn't lying there with a painfully obvious erection tenting the sheets. As if the two of you were little more than casual acquaintances rather than husband and wife.

"Good morning," Byakuya replied stiffly, voice rougher than usual with pent-up arousal. He watched, throat tightening, as your gaze pointedly dropped to his lap before you arched one brow delicately.

"Need a hand taking care of that?" You nodded towards his straining arousal. "I am your wife, after all, even if only in name. Assisting with such...needs...falls within the parameters of our arrangement."

The clinical way you referred to what could be an incredibly intimate physical connection made something twist viciously in Byakuya's gut. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together.

"That won't be necessary," he bit out, shoving the sheets aside to rise from the bed - utterly uncaring about putting his prominent erection on display. Let you get an eyeful of what you'd spent decades neglecting despite calling yourself his wife. "I'm more than capable of taking care of this on my own as usual."

Your lips pressed into a thin line at his rebuff, eyes following the rigid length jutting obscenely from the nest of dark curls as he brushed past you towards the bathroom. There was a flicker of something in your gaze - curiosity, perhaps, or fleeting interest quickly smothered.

Just before he slid the door shut behind himself, Byakuya paused and glanced back at you over his shoulder. "Though I appreciate the courtesy of looking after my basic needs, you needn't feel obligated on that front," he stated gruffly. "I have no expectations of you as a wife beyond maintaining the appearances of our political union."

The words were a lie, and you both knew it based on how your eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Byakuya didn't give you a chance to respond. He shut himself in the bathroom, turning the lock with a decisive click as he leaned back against the door and shoved his hakama the rest of the way down his hips.

His cock sprang free, achingly hard and leaking at the tip already from his frustrated arousal. Byakuya wasted no time in wrapping a firm hand around the throbbing shaft, biting back a groan as he started to stroke himself with harsh, efficient tugs.

Closing his eyes, he instantly conjured vivid fantasies to chase his release. Of bending you over the bathroom vanity and driving into that tight, dripping heat from behind with punishing thrusts. Of your cries of pleasure echoing off the tile walls as you begged him to fuck you harder, deeper, to fill you with his seed over and over.

Byakuya's pace sped up as the scenarios played out in excruciating detail in his mind. He could almost feel your nails scoring down his back, hear your gasping moans right against his ear as he claimed you with carnal, undignified abandon.

All these decades, he'd been starving for you. Craving the feeling of his cock stretching you open on that first delicious thrust, of your feminine heat convulsing so perfectly around his rigid length as you came apart beneath his relentless pursuit of release.

With a harsh grunt, Byakuya's hips stuttered forward as he spilled his release over his pumping fist and dripping onto the polished wood below. Orgasm ripped through him in searing waves, so intense yet still pitifully unsatisfying without the real thing to chase.

When the last tremors subsided, Byakuya opened his eyes and stared numbly at the sticky mess rapidly cooling on his skin and the floor. As always, the brief moment of physical relief brought with it a crushing loneliness as he was reminded that no matter how vivid his imagination, it would never compare to the transcendent bliss of experiencing those intimate acts with his actual wife.

With you, his best friend, his equal and confidante in every sense of the word. The only person who knew him more intimately than he knew himself.

The one person eternally off limits due to the terms of the loveless marriage you had both so willingly entered into a century ago.

Byakuya cleaned himself up quickly, shoving the aching tangle of desires back into their solitary cell for the time being. When he finally emerged, you were waiting in the hallway. Likely having heard his muffled sounds of self-pleasure and aware of exactly what he'd been doing behind that closed door.

There was no judgment or recrimination in your expression, though. Just the same measured indifference he'd come to expect regarding the personal boundaries between you two.

"I'm heading to the dining hall for breakfast," you stated calmly, as if nothing untoward had occurred. "Would you care to join me?"

Byakuya stared at you for a long moment, searching for any hint of softness or deeper emotion in your carefully neutral features. As always, he found nothing save his own warped yearnings staring back at him.

"Of course," he replied tonelessly. "Let's not keep Rukia waiting."

Side by side, you fell into step towards the dining hall - closer than mere acquaintances yet separated by impenetrable walls built by years of restraint and propriety.

Byakuya couldn't help stealing sidelong glances at you as you walked, fantasies and urges already stirring anew, ravenous and insatiable as always.

Perhaps one day, when his desire overwhelmed him entirely and his noble resolve crumbled to dust, he would finally succumb to the relentless longings you so effortlessly provoked. But until that day came, he would persevere - waging a silent, never-ending war against his own unrequited needs behind the ever-present mask of indifference.

Even if he burned from the inside out holding true to the boundaries you'd sworn yourselves to so very long ago.

The dining hall was its usual stately quiet when you and Byakuya arrived, the only sounds the soft clink of porcelain and hushed voices of the staff serving the morning meal. You led the way to the head of the long table, back ramrod straight and expression composed into its typical serene mask.

Byakuya followed half a step behind, eyes tracing the elegant line of your neck before flickering away guiltily. He couldn't stop replaying the image of you from earlier, standing there so coolly offering to pleasure him out of some bizarre sense of wifely duty. The thought still made his jaw clench with a confusing swirl of arousal and irritation.

You took your customary seat at the head of the table, back facing the ornate family shrines and ancestral portraits lining the walls. Byakuya settled across from you, stealing another sidelong glance as you delicately arranged your napkin across your lap.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the soft scrape of chopsticks against porcelain as you ate in your usual refined, unhurried manner. Byakuya found himself unable to look away, absently pushing the food around his plate as he studied the slope of your nose, the fan of dark lashes brushing your cheeks with every deliberate blink.

"Is the meal not to your liking this morning, dear?" you murmured without looking up, using the affectionate term for 'husband' out of propriety despite the distinct lack of warmth behind it.

Byakuya started slightly at being addressed so directly. "No...the meal is fine," he replied gruffly. "My mind was simply...elsewhere."

Your lips curved in the barest hint of a knowing smile before you returned your attention to your half-empty bowl of rice. "I see. Well, do try to join me in the present for at least a few moments. I wish to discuss some matters pertaining to the upcoming council meeting with the elders."

And just like that, the veneer of the poised noblewoman and clan leader was firmly back in place. You launched into a succinct overview of the agenda items and your proposed positions, speaking in that same clipped, matter-of-fact tone that always made Byakuya's chest ache for reasons he could never put words to.

It was so eerily reminiscent of how his grandfather used to strategize and plan, never allowing anything as frivolous as emotional attachments or indulgent fancies to cloud his judgment regarding the clan's best interests. An echo of the same pragmatic adherence to duty and custom above all else that the Kuchiki advisors had no doubt admired in you so ardently when suggesting this marriage all those decades ago.

You were the ideal partner from their skewed perspective - unflinchingly devoted to preserving the clan's power and noble heritage with the same ruthless single-mindedness as the most stringent of the elders. No distractions, no silly romantic dalliances to clutter your focus or judgment when it came to the matters that truly mattered.

Byakuya swallowed thickly at the realization, fighting a wave of bitterness. Was that all he would ever be to you? Another piece on the chessboard of responsibilities and lineage maintenance rather than an equal partner to share your life with? The thought settled like a leaden knot in the pit of his stomach.

He was roused from his brooding reverie by the sound of the dining room door sliding open. Rukia bustled in, the youthful glow of her features at odds with the weary lines of strain carved between her brows.

"Pardon my tardiness, nii-sama, [Y/N]-dono," she said by way of greeting, bowing slightly as she hurried to take her usual seat beside Byakuya. "I was finishing up some paperwork for Captain Ukitake."

"It's quite alright, Rukia," you replied, the barest hint of maternal warmth tingeing your tone in a way Byakuya had only ever witnessed when addressing his adopted sister. "Please, help yourself. We were just discussing the upcoming clan affairs."

Byakuya watched in guarded silence as the two most important women in his world interacted with far more open affection than he had ever experienced from you. Despite your composed decorum, there was an unmistakable softness suffusing your features as you guided Rukia through the meeting notes with the same patient attentiveness he always admired about you.

It only served to reinforce the ugly, thorny resentment taking root in his chest over the detached, clinical treatment you reserved solely for him by comparison. Even now, after so many years walking in the minutely inhabited sphere of your marriage, you remained this untouchable, unknowable enigma behind an impenetrable wall of propriety. A cold, regal mystery that seemed destined to forever elude his ability to breach it no matter how fervently he yearned to.

"Speaking of important clan affairs," Rukia ventured after swallowing a bite of egg. "When do you two intend to begin the process of securing the next Kuchiki heir?"

Her innocent query hung in the air like a lead balloon as the temperature in the room seemed to plummet ten degrees instantaneously. Byakuya felt his spine stiffen, heart pounding as he cut his eyes towards you guardedly.

Your features betrayed not a single flicker of discomfort, perfectly smooth and implacable as you gathered your words to deliver the expected politic non-answer with surgical precision.

"There are no immediate plans to address providing a successor within our marriage, Rukia," you stated, each syllable clipped with familiar indifference. "Should the clan elders deem it relevant in the future, Byakuya and I will of course uphold our duties. But for now, it remains a non-issue."

The icy formality with which you brushed aside such a deeply personal matter grated on Byakuya's nerves. He could practically feel the gnashing, clawing hunger inside him rearing up in protest.

'It's always just "duties" and "obligations" with her. As if the thought of lying with me, making a child together, doesn't stir even a flicker of longing beyond cold calculations...'

He carefully schooled his features into an imperious mask as he turned his attention to Rukia, not quite able to mask the edge of rebuke in his tone. "You heard my wife. We will address the matter of an heir when the clan leadership sees fit to make it a priority for us."

'My gorgeous, maddening wife who remains as untouchable as a desert mirage no matter how feverishly I burn for her touch...'

Rukia shrank back slightly at the undercurrent of tension she could no doubt sense thickening the air between her brother and sister-in-law. She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest or simply ask another ill-advised question.

But you smoothly cut her off, ever the picture of aristocratic poise despite the hint of challenge flickering behind your gaze as it locked with Byakuya's.

"There's no need to make too much on the subject any further this morning, Rukia," you said evenly, perfectly level save for the barest undercurrent of steel woven through each syllable. "We have larger matters of importance regarding the clan's future to focus our discussion on."

'Once again, she deflects—just as she always does when the conversation nears the unspoken voids in our marriage. The empty spaces I long to fill with the genuine intimacy of a true partnership in every sense.'

The unspoken challenge simmered between you, charging the atmosphere with an electric tang that seemed to crackle along Byakuya's heated skin. He opened his mouth, some part of him aching to cut through the dense fog of pretense and avoidance and lay everything bare in that moment—

'I want her so badly it feels like there's a roaring furnace consuming me from the inside out at all times. My own wife, and yet she remains the singular source of torment and unfulfilled desire that may very well raze me to ashes before I draw my next breath—'

"Well!" Rukia's overly-bright tone sliced through the fraught silence like a klaxon blast. She was already half-risen from her seat, gaze pinging uncertainly between the two of you. "I can see this is a...rather delicate conversation I've stumbled into. I'll just go ahead and give you two some space to discuss things...privately."

She paused as if awaiting either an agreement or dismissal, but your attention remained utterly arrowed upon Byakuya. He held your stare levelly, hoping his eyes at least betrayed a fraction of the rawness currently scorching through his veins.

'Look at me, damn you—see the wretched, lust-crazed state you’ve left me in after decades of relentless yearning. The unraveling of every noble restraint I’ve forced upon myself in the name of restraint and duty.'

There was no retreat or softening in your inscrutable mask as the weighted seconds ticked by in suffocating stillness. Finally, Rukia made a small noise of surrender and simply excused herself, the shoji door sliding shut behind her in a dissonant clap of finality.

You and Byakuya were finally alone with the inexorable gauntlet lying between you thrumming with all the pent-up intensity of embers slowly fanning to life. A conflagration they both knew could either be extinguished with cold resolution once more...or finally permitted to immolate every fragile, artificial barrier separating you in one searing, cataclysmic release.

The weighted silence stretched between you, palpable and loaded like a tripwire primed for detonation at the slightest provocation. Byakuya's grip tightened fractionally on the edge of the table, jaw flexing as he struggled to maintain his veneer of implacable stoicism.

Inwardly, he felt like a treacherous inferno was raging barely restrained – one he'd been ruthlessly fighting to smother for decades upon decades. The searing licks of unanswered desire and unrequited ardor scalding through his veins each time you so much as met his stare, reminding him of every scorching fantasy he'd indulged regarding his wife.

His beautiful, untouchable wife who remained irritatingly oblivious to the all-consuming obsession slowly unraveling him from the inside out.

You arched one elegant brow, the picture of regal poise and control despite the fraught undercurrents swirling around you. "Is there a problem, dear?" you asked coolly, each syllable clipped with that familiar indifference.

Byakuya felt his throat constrict at the clinical detachment in your tone. A large part of him – the darkly primal, starved facet he'd been denying for far too long – ached to shed every last shred of pretense in that moment. To unburden himself of the ravenous truth gnawing away at the very foundations of his sanity like a relentless psychic parasite.

That he loved you, truly and desperately in spite of the pragmatic circumstances binding your marriage. That every fiber of his being howled to sear the boundaries you'd sworn between you into ash so he could finally slake his depraved thirst upon your flesh. To kiss you, take you as his wife in actuality, to make you cry out his name in rapture as he buried himself to the hilt over and over in that welcoming, scalding heat reserved only for him.

In the end, what emerged past Byakuya's gritted teeth was a mere fraction of that roiling, consuming truth.

"None, wife." He fought not to let his voice betray the barest tremor, but couldn't quite keep the roughened edges from scraping against each word. “Simply… reflecting on this morning’s discussion.”

You regarded him through narrowed eyes for a long beat, clearly sensing the evasive dishonesty behind his clipped reply. When you spoke again, a hint of that same challenge he'd glimpsed earlier bled through the deceptively mild lilt of your words.

"I see," you murmured, lips pursing in a subtle moue that Byakuya tried desperately not to fixate upon. "Well, should you need to...reflect anything further, you know where to find me, dear."

The blatant undercurrent of suggestion in that final endearment was like a lightning strike directly to Byakuya's groin. He shifted unconsciously on the cushion, fighting a full-body shudder as a shockwave of white-hot arousal detonated through his core. The mere thought of you extending such a brazen overture, of allowing him to indulge those perverse compulsions he'd kept on a punishingly tight leash for over a century.

It took every ounce of Byakuya's legendary self-restraint not to surge across the short distance separating you and seize your smaller frame against his body right then and there. He could practically envision it – the delicious give of those curves molding against the painfully rigid planes of his torso...your sharp inhalations of surprise quickly melting into pliant acceptance as his hands cupped the soft weight of your jaw, tilting your mouth up to finally meet his in a searing, devouring kiss.

The first of countless such shattering embraces he fully intended to worship every inch of your body with before the night was through, untold lifetimes' worth of bottled cravings finally attaining sweet, rapturous release in the most intimate joining of—

"As it happens..."

Byakuya grated out the demurral through a clenched jaw, the sharp consonants punctuated by audible strain. He ruthlessly banished the vivid fantasies, shoving them back into the shadowed recesses of his psyche before they could completely upend his tarnished control like a towering tsunami.

When he lifted his gaze back to yours, the full intensity of his longing had been masked once more behind those impenetrable walls of frigid civility. But the subtle tightening at the corners of his eyes betrayed the staggering effort it took to keep those virulent compulsions leashed.

"I just realized I have a few matters requiring my attention in the clan archives this afternoon," he continued tonelessly. "But I will see you again later this evening, [Y/N]."

The words held a pregnant pause, unspoken but no less palpable for the weight carried between them. They both knew the undercurrents simmering below the surface could only be ignored or avoided for so long before the dam finally ruptured in spectacular fashion.

Tonight may very well be when those relentless, rising tides finally crested and swept away every carefully constructed barrier fortifying the hollows between your souls.

You seemed to grasp the implications as well from the minute tightening around your eyes and the measured rise of your chest. But you simply inclined your head in a regal, understated acknowledgment.

"Very well. Don't let me keep you from those...pressing archive matters, my love." The intimate endearment seemed to drip from your tongue with heavier insinuation this time, rife with unspoken challenges and the potential for upheavals to come. "I'll be...keeping myself equally occupied until then."

With that final subtle barb lancing straight through his composure, you turned and swept from the dining hall in a billow of silk and unshakable poise. Byakuya watched your departure through a creeping haze of spiraling arousal and quietly simmering outrage.

Tonight, the shattering culmination of this exquisite torture between you would finally reach its tipping point – one way or another.

For both your sakes, he prayed fervently that you would choose the path of brutal honesty and passion when you inevitably collided once more. For he wasn't certain his beleaguered restraints could withstand another evening of needless, self-inflicted torment at your measured hands.

Not without snapping completely and simply...taking what he'd starved for all along, propriety be damned.

Night had long since fallen over the Kuchiki estate, blanketing the ornate gardens and walkways in velvety darkness. Byakuya made his way through the winding corridors towards the bedroom he shared with you, footsteps muffled against the woven tatami.

As he approached the carved wooden door, he couldn't help but slow his gait infinitesimally. Each measured step seemed to carry a strange, leaden weight - like he was being pulled along by an inexorable gravitational force rather than propelling himself by conscious will.

The soft sounds of movement filtering through the door only intensified that sensation, raising the fine hairs along the back of Byakuya's neck in a rippling wave of heightened awareness. He knew without needing to be told that you were inside, likely preparing for bed or some other nightly routine.

Just the thought of you undressed or partially disrobed in those private chambers you shared was enough to spark a dull, insistent flare of heat coiling low in Byakuya's belly. He grit his teeth against the reflexive rush, silently cursing the towering lack of restraint chipping away at his noble reserves with each passing year.

This was his wife - his childhood friend, his respected equal through every twist and tribulation life had thrown their way over the decades. Under no circumstances should he allow his thoughts to linger on such depravities and urges unfitting for the partner fate had inexplicably bound him to.

And yet, as Byakuya's hand finally wrapped around the polished wooden latch, he couldn't quite smother the vivid images scorching through his consciousness. Of you standing there disheveled and deliciously rumpled from slumber...loose sleeping yukata slipping invitingly off one shoulder to bare tantalizing hints of the feminine curves lying just beneath...

He shook his head sharply, irritation flaring as he ruthlessly banished the inappropriate fantasies. This pointless internal struggle against his baser impulses was quickly becoming exhausting in the most demoralizing sense of the word. Steeling himself, Byakuya slid the door open and stepped across the threshold with his usual implacable confidence.

You stood beside the ornate vanity, hands resting against the lacquered surface as your head turned fractionally at his entrance. Your lips parted as if to speak but whatever greeting might have tumbled forth stilled on your tongue as you took in Byakuya's rigid, almost brittle poise standing there.

For several suspended heartbeats, the two of you simply appraised one another in thick, weighty silence. Byakuya's jaw clenched hard enough for his molars to grind as his eyes traced the artfully tousled tumble of your soft tresses...the plush swell of those lips still parted in a delicious moue of surprise...the exquisite cut of bare collarbones teasing at the shadowed hints of cleavage peeking through the loose drape of your robe.

You were the very picture of artless, slumberous beauty in that moment. And Byakuya felt the ravenous ache of deprivation howling through him at the mere thought of reaching out to caress so much of that inoxicatingly soft, warm skin as had been steadfastly denied him for decades upon decades of their hollow union.

That single, maddening compulsion threatened to shatter the last tattered threads holding his civilized veneer together in one reckless surge of motion. He nearly staggered beneath the crushing tides of wanting, of pure visceral need clawing up from where he'd ruthlessly shoved it down for far too long.

"Byakuya?" Your voice cut through the thick, heated haze swirling in his mind - low and slightly rough from disuse. "Is...everything alright?"

He blinked sluggishly, realizing that in his momentary lapse of control, he hadn't so much as shifted from where he stood frozen on the threshold. Simply remained there, gripped motionless in the throes of that overwhelming flood of longing like a man stumbling across a poisonous serpent mid-coil.

When Byakuya finally found his voice, it emerged with slightly more strain laced around the edges than he would have preferred.

"Yes," he bit out tersely, still rooted there as if held in place by the forbidding gravity well of your presence alone. "I simply...was not expecting you to still be awake at this hour."

It wasn't quite an apology or excuse for his unseemly lapse, but it was enough to prompt you into action. You turned more fully towards him, clasping the sumptuous folds of your sleeping robe tighter like shielding armor against his searching eyes.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting you anytime soon tonight," you countered evenly, that same subtle edge of challenge gilding each word like a barely-there blade's caress. "But since you're here now..."

You trailed off, the lingering unspoken invitation hanging pregnant between you like a looming storm front. Byakuya felt his fingers curl into fists at his sides, nails biting half-moons into his palms as his body reacted with visceral sensitivity to even the barest implications from your lips.

"I did not mean to keep you waiting," he murmured after another fraught pause. "Merely...following your earlier suggestion regarding matters requiring further processing between us, that's all."

The corners of your lips quirked upwards for the span of a solitary breath, infinitely knowing and dripping with unsubtle implication. Your tongue darted out to graze across that full lower swell for a scant second, the entirely unconscious motion searing itself across Byakuya's retinas like a brand.

"I see," you hummed lightly, gaze flicking deliberately up and down the rigid lines of Byakuya's form in a leisurely, measuring perusal. “Well, don’t let me keep you from unpacking those heavy thoughts any longer, dear. If I remember correctly, I did say I’d be available if you need any further processing.”

The taut, loaded silence stretched between you like a tightrope pulled to its breaking point. Byakuya felt the insistent thrum of his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he appraised you – still achingly tempting despite the guarded set of your shoulders.

He allowed his gaze to deliberately roam the elegant lines of your robe-draped figure one more time. Drinking in the visual splendor of soft, silken fabric pooling in artful disarray to reveal teasing flashes of skin. The delicate hollow at the base of your throat where your pulse fluttered with each subtle inhalation. The careless tangle of tresses he longed to rake his fingers through and thoroughly dishevel.

When his silver-eyed stare at last found yours again, the hunger simmering in those smoldering depths must have been plain for you to discern. Because you visibly stilled, lips parting around a nearly imperceptible hitch of breath as color bloomed high on your cheekbones.

Byakuya didn't miss the way your eyes cut away, unable to fully meet the unguarded intensity blazing in his own. A flicker of something like uncertainty crossed your features before the impassive mask slipped seamlessly back into place. But that single infinitesimal crack in your unflappable poise was all it took for the first tiny ember to ignite deep in his chest.

"You're right," he stated, the low rasp of his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic roughness that caused your lashes to flutter involuntarily. "There are...significant matters still requiring discussion between us. Issues that demand brutal honesty if there's to be any hope of processing them properly."

Moving with an unhurried, measured gait, Byakuya crossed the polished floor until mere feet separated you. At this proximity, he could detect the clean floral notes of your favorite soaps mingling with that subtle feminine musk unique to you alone. Headier and more intoxicating than any finely aged sake he'd ever indulged in.

You watched his slow approach with guarded attentiveness, throat bobbing convulsively as you fought not to retreat further. When he halted just shy of your personal space, you finally found your voice again.

"And what sorts of brutally honest discussions did you have in mind?" You arched one shapely brow, feigning nonchalance despite the sharp edges now gilding your words. "Nothing too untoward or...unbecoming for a noble lady such as myself, I should hope."

Byakuya didn't take the bait, refusing to be drawn into your familiar dance of evasion and veiled deflections. He simply canted his head slightly, cataloguing the minute shifts in your expression as he let the weighted silence drag out between you once more.

This was the closest they'd stood since that night, decades ago, when they had tentatively exchanged the customary ceremonial kiss to bind their vows in front of the clan elders. He could still remember the barest ghost of friction from your lips brushing his in that clinical, detached facsimile of greater intimacies to come.

The recollection sparked a sudden visceral pang in Byakuya's chest, like lancing open an old suture left to fester for far too long. He frowned, unable to suppress the melancholy ache bleeding into his tone.

"Do you remember the first time we embraced as children?" The words slipped out unbidden, scarcely above a murmur yet somehow carrying the crushing weight of ages across the limited distance separating your bodies. “Not just a casual gesture for appearance’s sake, but a genuine, heartfelt expression of familial affection, freely given?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the seeming non-sequitur. But when you spoke again, it was with a calculated indifference cloaking whatever genuine emotion may have flickered beneath.

"If I'm meant to recall some specific childhood incident, you'll have to be more clear." You tilted your chin up a fraction, holding Byakuya's searching stare levelly. "My memories are not necessarily as adept at trifling nostalgic reminiscences."

The bald dismissal felt like a slap, uncoiling the first lashes of frustrated irritation across Byakuya's composure. His expression hardened further as he stepped fully into your personal space, the heat radiating from your proximities suddenly suffocating rather than tempting.

"Don't play coy, [Y/N]," he bit out, each consonant ground out through gritted teeth. "You remember as well as I the intimacies we used to share – meaningless trivialities in your estimation, perhaps, but cherished moments to my recollection."

He paused, gaze raking hungrily over the delicate fan of your lashes, the subtle part of those lush lips as they parted around a sudden inhalation of breath. Seemingly despite yourself, you had leaned infinitesimally closer as he spoke, drawn in by either his proximity or the naked emotion lacing his words.

"Back then, you were not simply my dearest friend," Byakuya continued, voice lowering to an intimate rumble thick with layered history and complex longing. "You were my other half, the twin flame to my own restless spirit. We shared every precious childhood intimacy two souls could experience together – long embraces, whispered secrets, all those small yet infinitely meaningful expressions of vulnerability and trust between kindred beings."

He lifted a hand as if to reach out and cradle the elegant line of your jaw. To forge that physical connection he suddenly ached for with an intensity that stole what little air remained between you. But at the last second, rigid self-restraint locked his muscles, leaving his fingertips hovering just shy of actually making contact.

"And now..." His voice caught minutely on the hushed syllable, lashes dipping as he marshaled his next words through a tangle of tangled regrets and denied yearnings. "After nearly a century of keeping our marriage bound solely by hollow ceremony and obligation...I can scarcely recall the last time we even indulged a simple, meaningless human touch between us outside of obligation."

Byakuya's eyes slitted open again, finding yours with heated focus like answering a siren's call. The anguish and naked vulnerability burning in those mercurial depths very nearly stole your breath completely.

"Tell me, wife..." His fingertips finally skimmed the slope of your jaw in a scarcely-there caress, coaxing an audible hitch from your lips. "When did we become such utter, desolate strangers to one another?"

Your expression shifted almost imperceptibly at Byakuya's hushed accusation, lips pressing into a thin line as you visibly bristled. When you spoke again, the bald undercurrent of challenge lashing through each syllable nearly stung with its sudden force.

"Don't you dare try laying this at my feet," you stated in a low, clipped tone that brooked no argument. "Need I remind you who approached me with the suggestion of a political marriage all those years ago?"

Byakuya felt his own jaw tighten at the barb, even as a niggling sense of rightful chastisement niggled beneath the knee-jerk defensiveness flaring in his chest. You weren't wrong - he had been the one to initially float the idea of binding your ancient bloodlines through marriage, albeit couched in pragmatic inevitability rather than the least hint of amorous intent.

Your eyes narrowed, no doubt catching the fractional tells betraying his momentary concession. "That's right, I didn't think so," you continued coolly. "If I recall, the proposal involved an explicitly loveless arrangement focused solely on satisfying our family obligations through a legitimate legal partnership."

You paused, sweeping an imperious look up and down Byakuya's increasingly taut form. The full curve of your lips twisted in a wry moue, somehow both condescending and undeniably enticing all at once.

"An arrangement to which I readily agreed in good faith, never once expressing any...unreasonable expectations of deeper intimacies being involved." The final words carried an undercurrent of acidic rebuke that felt like the silk cords binding your marital pact tightening to noose-point around Byakuya's windpipe. "Unlike some, it seems."

The implication lanced straight through the last vestiges of Byakuya's carefully crafted affectations of stoicism like a red-hot branding iron. He recoiled slightly at the unveiled slight, shoulders squaring in blatant affront.

"Do not presume to cast my perspective as 'unreasonable expectations', wife," he growled, using the archaic title like a challenge rather than a term of endearment. "I have done nothing if not honor our agreement to the absolute letter these past decades, no matter how..."

He trailed off, fighting a sudden upswing of emotion clogging his throat like an iron fist. When he spoke again, the words emerged ragged and whetted against the sandpaper grind of barely restrained frustration.

"No matter how infinitely empty that hollow, affectionless existence has left me feeling inside," Byakuya rasped. “You claim to have fulfilled our ‘arrangement’ to the letter. Yet, I must take issue with such blatant dishonesty regarding the implicit matters you have so grievously neglected in your duties as my spouse!”

It was your turn to visibly bristle at his implied slight. You straightened infinitesimally, chin tilting up in blatant affront as a flash of genuine anger sparked behind the impassive facade.

"Duties?" you parroted with blistering sarcasm. "Please, elaborate further about which of my daily responsibilities running this entire household and clan I've allowed to fall so woefully short."

Byakuya crossed the final distance between you in a few heated strides, stopping just shy of your personal space and pinning you in place with the sheer barely-restrained force of his towering presence. Close enough to feel the coiled heat smoldering between your bodies, yet still maintaining that hair's breadth of respect keeping you from true physical contact.

"Your role as noble matron of this clan may be perfect," he rumbled lowly, unable to fully keep an edge of bitter ire from leeching into the words. "But your performance as my wife leaves everything to be desired, if we're speaking with such brutal honesty."

Tension coiled and crackled between you at the unveiled slight - the first volley fired across the bow of what rapidly felt like an inevitable descent into the uglier side of marital confrontation. You bristled even further, eyes flashing in a way that should not have set off such visceral sparks of perverse interest ricocheting through Byakuya's core.

"How dare you question my devotion to upholding this marriage!" The words finally detonated from your lips in a low growl, lush and vibrating with barely leashed outrage. "I have remained a consummate and steadfast partner to you in every way we agreed upon from the very start—"

"Except where it counts most, or so it would seem!"

The retort burst forth from Byakuya before he could fully leash it, reverberation through the hushed air between you with enough resonant impact to finally silence your heated tirade. His chest heaved with increasingly ragged pants as the blistering splinters of accusation began spilling unchecked past his lips - the first cracks in centuries' worth of emotional artifice and restraint finally fracturing past the breaking point.

“You behave as though hiding this loveless charade behind empty ceremony and detachment absolves you of any responsibility for the intimacy that one should rightly expect from a wife!” He snarled, raking you with a look of such heated hunger and repressed ardor, it very nearly singed your exposed skin. “As if a few meaningless gestures here and there could somehow absolve you of the responsibility to offer genuine emotional sustenance and vulnerability to the man whose name you bear!”

Silence swelled in the wake of his harsh accusations, ripe and viscous enough to scald. Byakuya realized distantly that you had both crossed into uncharted territory - stumbling into the precipice of an argument fueled by long-overdue confrontation in a way he could scarcely recall from your lifetimes shared together.

Part of him felt awash in the foreign exhilaration of finally breaching those banked emotional bulwarks you had both so rigidly maintained over the centuries. Another, smaller voice buried deep within quietly lamented the loss of equilibrium you had strived to preserve no matter the personal cost to your individual souls...

But the expression searing across your features in that suspended moment utterly scattered those introspective whispers to the seven winds. You stared back at Byakuya with an amalgam of shock, indignation, and something else infinitely more complex simmering behind your depthless irises. The sight of which catalyzed a firestorm roaring back to searing life in the deepest chambers of his psyche.

This simmering new crucible awaiting you both...this trial by fire and unleashed anguish and unslaked rapture suddenly coalescing between your mirrored souls...

You were going to burn together with Byakuya at its merciless epicenter, whether you welcomed the cleansing immolation or not. The deciding crucible was whether you both emerged from this transformative conflagration as heartbroken embers or twin flames reforged into something unbreakable and new.

Byakuya's eyes fluttered open, blinking groggily against the pale morning light filtering through the bedroom. Awareness came back in increments - the soft, rumpled bedding tangled around his legs, the subtle floral notes of your shampoo still clinging to the sheets.

And you, lying there mere inches away with your back turned towards him.

Memories of last night's confrontation slammed into Byakuya like a physical blow as he studied the elegant curve of your spine rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He could still hear the words echoing like shards of sharpened obsidian between them.

His bitter accusations that you were failing as a true wife by withholding any semblance of deeper intimacy or vulnerability in their marriage. Your enraged retorts branding him as entitled and unreasonable for expecting you to indulge those unspoken yearnings that he'd sworn from the beginning were never part of your practical agreement.

The knot of residual tension coiled fresh in Byakuya's gut as those echoes ricocheted through his consciousness again. Part of him still simmered with righteous indignation at how swiftly you'd dismissed his anguished confessions as nothing more than petulant whining.

After all, what gave you the right to judge the validity of his starvation for a genuine intimate connection in your marriage? One you continually denied him time and time again through your detached aloofness and steadfast refusal to acknowledge anything beyond cold, impersonal obligation between you?

Still, another part of Byakuya felt a pang of remorse as his gaze traced the delicate hills and valleys of your sleeping form. He knew the anger clouding his perceptions last night had been equal parts years' worth of repressed longing boiling over and sheer, virulent desperation to finally breach the icy walls you'd so skillfully constructed around yourself.

Perhaps he had been too rash, too heated in flinging those recriminations at you. Not that the central truth behind them was any less valid or raw after finally being given voice. But now, in the stark sobriety of morning after, some of the barbs and more scathing denouncements rang with an ugliness that Byakuya couldn't help feeling a flicker of regret over.

You began to stir, shoulders rolling back in a slow, languid stretch that momentarily bared the elegant sweep of your neck and collarbones to his rapt stare. Byakuya tried not to fixate too brazenly on the ephemeral glimpses of soft feminine skin emerging and vanishing beneath the shifting fabric.

He really did intend to avert his eyes with some sense of decorum once you'd fully roused. But then your torso twisted, yukata parting wider to afford him an unobstructed vignette of the lush curves barely concealed beneath – the swells of your breasts cradled in silken folds, the shadowed promise of flushed nipple peeking between sheer layers of fabric.

Byakuya's next inhalation stuttered harshly in his throat, every primal instinct searing straight to full readiness. He felt the first telltale stirrings between his thighs as his groin tightened with dull, pulsating interest. The thin bedding rapidly grew stifling, clinging snugly against the burgeoning swell claiming territory there with alarming swiftness.

As if sensing the raw undercurrent of attention suddenly searing you from behind, you turned over fully to face Byakuya with those same heavy-lidded eyes. For a breathless few heartbeats, you simply regarded one another across the scant divide separating your bodies. Byakuya's gaze was instantly, helplessly, snared by the newly exposed swell of cleavage cupped in delicate silk, your breasts rising and falling in tandem with each slow inhalation.

Your head canted infinitesimally, chin dipping in a subtle motion that allowed the yukata to drape lower with each passing second. When your gaze at last lifted and locked onto Byakuya's, there was no mistaking the sultry intensity reflected there – or the fact you had undoubtedly noticed precisely where his attentions were so raptly fixated.

He could have sworn your lips twitched towards the barest ghost of a smirk before your expression smoothed into studied neutrality once more. It was at that precise moment the rumpled bedding chose to further betray Byakuya's state. An unmistakable ridge had pitched itself into stark relief, proudly tenting the cotton in the general vicinity of his increasingly interested groin as his stiffening arousal continued taking form.

The knowing look you slanted his way made it abundantly clear you'd noticed that particular development as well. Byakuya instinctively shifted as if to conceal the obscene display, but your eyes had already traced a molten path down to the disheveled sheets before flickering back up to meet his increasingly flustered stare.

"Need some assistance this morning, husband?" you purred, raw challenge dripping from each perfectly modulated syllable.

Instantly, Byakuya felt his hackles rising at the unblushing acknowledgment of his body's state as well as the brazen implication lacing your words. Of course, on some level this blatant goading shouldn't have necessarily come as a shock – not after the no-holds-barred confrontation last night that felt like a point of no return in stripping away pretenses between you.

Still, your utter ease at addressing such deeply intimate matters so unsubtly sent a complicated slurry of emotions roiling through him. Indignation, carnal intrigue, residual resentment from your earlier dismissals...they all crashed together in a turbulent riptide that very nearly drowned out the capacity for coherent speech entirely.

In the end, what emerged past Byakuya's gritted teeth carried more growl than question.

"And just what sort of 'assistance' did you have in mind, wife?" he bit out tightly.

You didn't so much as flinch at the belligerent edge gilding his words. Simply regarded Byakuya through lowered lashes that framed you in an entrancing play of light and shadow across your delicate features. An infinitesimal pause stretched out before you wet your lips with a slow, deliberate sweep of your tongue, seemingly savoring the effect the unhurried motion had on Byakuya's locked stare.

"Perhaps..." you began, voice a low, throaty purr that immediately stoked fresh vitality blazing up his spine. "A more...hands-on approach would suffice to meet your needs this morning?"

The thinly veiled overture hung in the air like a lead weight, coaxing Byakuya's breath to stutter anew as you smoothly untucked one hand from beneath the disheveled bedding. His features remained a stolid mask, but you seemed to read the roiling tides of emotion and want churning behind his eyes with unsettling accuracy.

Without preamble, you reached down and firmly grasped the sheets tenting over Byakuya's prominent erection. Your fingers curled around the swollen length, squeezing with just enough pressure to drag a harsh grunt from between his clenched teeth.

"[Y/N]..." he rasped in a low warning, silver eyes blazing. "What do you think you’re doing?"

Rather than answer directly, you simply met his searing stare and began sliding your fist up and down his trapped cock in slow, purposeful strokes. Each languid caress over the rumpled fabric had Byakuya's abdomen clenching, thick shafts of arousal lancing through him with undeniable intensity.

"Isn't this what you accused me of failing at?" you murmured, voice tinged with dark challenge as you twisted your wrist on the next firm upstroke. "Being an attentive, dutiful wife?"

Byakuya's nostrils flared as he fought for composure, every tendon straining against the urge to rut shamelessly into your snug channel of a fist. When he remained stubbornly silent, you leaned in until the suggestion of cleavage peeked from your loosened robe - close enough for him to smell the first faint wafts of your clean, feminine musk.

"Don't try to play coy with me now, dear," you breathed, lips brushing tantalizingly along the sharp ridge of his jaw. "We both know this is exactly what you've been starving for all these years..."

To punctuate the taunting words, you slowed your strokes to an agonizing grind - just the slightest bit of delicious friction to keep Byakuya teetering right on the maddening edge of release and denial. A ragged rumble vibrated up from the depths of his chest as his hips jerked uselessly, chasing that infinitesimal amount of relief.

"I'm waiting for an answer, husband," you husked against the thrumming pulse at his throat. "Is this level of wifely care and attention up to your...standards at last?"

The mockery bled through with clear insinuation, stoking the smoldering embers of Byakuya's restraint into a roaring bonfire. Before he could fully process the action, he had snarled and caught you by the nape - bodily yanking you forward until you collided against his heaving chest.

You gasped at the sudden impact, lips parting in shock as Byakuya crushed your smaller form flush against the unyielding planes of his torso. He glared down at you through heavy-lidded eyes, chest heaving with each ragged inhalation as he struggled to marshal his words.

"Don't think for one second..." He bit out the gravelly syllables like serrated blades. "That I don't see right through this pathetic little tantrum of yours, woman."

Byakuya's hand spanned the curve of your throat, fingertips digging in with unspoken warning as you swallowed audibly against the grip. Your gazes remained locked in pointed challenge, bodies thrumming with every unvoiced slight and bitter grievance still rippling between you in the aftermath of your confrontation.

"If you truly believed indulging me with empty carnal comforts alone was enough to absolve you of being such a useless, frigid wife-" He broke off in a strangled growl as you deliberately ground yourself down against his aching erection. "-then you're even more depraved and clueless than I previously gave you credit for."

There, he'd said it - flung the full brunt of pent-up frustration and accusation straight into your face with nothing left to mince. Let you retaliate or storm away in a huff, he didn't particularly care at this stage. Anything to disrupt this maddening spiral you seemed determined to plunge them both into once and for—

The thought withered in his throat as you abruptly surged forward, claiming Byakuya's parted lips in a punishing kiss that obliterated every shred of higher reasoning from his consciousness. His muffled noise of surprise quickly morphed into a guttural groan as your lithe tongue slid past his slack defenses, exploring the scalding velvet of his mouth with unrestrained ardor.

Then it was his turn to gasp as your hand snaked down underneath the sheets, fisting around the base of his cock and squeezing hard enough to send lightning bolts of rapture searing along every nerve ending. Byakuya bucked mindlessly against you as your tongue and roving palm set an unforgiving rhythm of slick heat and friction designed to thoroughly undo him, piece by agonizing piece.

Through the haze of spiraling ecstasy and bewilderment, he was dimly aware of your other hand tangling in the tumbled lengths of his hair - nails scraping deliciously against his scalp as you held him immobile against the ferocity of your mouth's onslaught. Byakuya simply surrendered himself to the maelstrom, hands roaming across every lush curve he could reach in desperation as you both finally, irrevocably shed every last pretense and barrier fortifying your union.

After what felt like an eternity had lapsed and still was nowhere near fucking enough, you finally tore your lips from Byakuya's with a harsh gasp. Hazy eyes sharpened to glittering diamonds of sheer, unfettered want as you stared into his ravaged expression like a woman beholding her next great conquest splayed out before her.

"Shut up and just take what you've been craving all this time," you husked against his swollen mouth, accent thickened with exertion and challenge. "And maybe I'll consider making an honest man out of you yet..."

The words had barely faded when you wrenched the bedding out of the way, freeing his flushed erection from its confines. The head wept a thin rivulet of pre-come that smeared against your thigh as Byakuya's hips rocked upwards, searching for some semblance of friction to relieve the excruciating need coursing through him.

He groaned deep in his throat when your palm encircled his throbbing shaft, stroking the heated length from tip to base with torturous deliberation. You watched the effect of your ministrations play across his features like a master sculptor studying the progress of her greatest masterpiece - an artistry crafted by the sensual friction of your palm and fingertips and the subtle squeeze of your thumb rolling against his swollen cockhead.

Byakuya could no longer tell how long the exquisite torture lasted. Each languid upstroke had his spine bowing in supplication, the downstroke dragging a guttural cry from somewhere deep within the caverns of his chest. Your touch was an irresistible torment - just the right balance of pressure and friction, a firm twist of your wrist as you reached the base, and the subtle scrape of your blunt nails on the way back up to the sensitive glans.

It was only after his vision began swimming that Byakuya realized his eyes had slipped shut against the deluge of sensation. The moment he forced them open again, you were there, close enough to feel the heat radiating from your naked breasts. Close enough for him to easily lunge forward and catch one plump nipple between his teeth.

Your answering moan reverberated through Byakuya's whole frame, sparking a visceral triumph that he'd finally found something to throw you off balance. He lathed the rosy peak with his tongue, suckling and nibbling until the sensitive bud hardened into a stiff pebble beneath his attention. You whimpered brokenly when he switched his attentions to the other neglected peak, your grip weakening just as the first true shivers of climax began to rack his frame.

The loss of contact dragged a guttural whine from Byakuya, muffled by his lips still fastened around your swollen nipple as his hips bucked up futilely as he searched for your hand or lips or tongue to bring him over the edge. You seemed intent on prolonging the torment, though - fingers sliding down to cradle his aching balls, nails scraping gently against the taut sac.

Byakuya's vision flashed white, entire body jerking as the first surge of release crashed through him. He came with a harsh groan, hot spurts painting his stomach and chest before your hand moved to milk the final drops from his pulsing length, inadvertently gathering the last few, pathetic remnants of his seed onto your hand.

The two of you lay there in the aftermath, chests heaving as the last tremors of release ebbed away. The heated tension that had been simmering between you both for decades evaporated into the heavy, musk-laden air.

You slowly extracted your hand from where it had been firmly gripping Byakuya's spent cock, letting the sticky evidence of his undoing streak across your palm. He watched with hooded eyes as you glanced at the pearly streaks almost distastefully before using the rumpled sheets to wipe it away.

An awkward silence descended as the post-orgasmic haze lifted and you both seemed to fully register what had just transpired between you. After nearly a century of stubbornly denying any deeper intimacies, you had just engaged in unambiguously carnal acts with the sole intent of bringing Byakuya to shattering climax.

And from the way his silver gaze kept roving over the pebbled peak of your breast - slightly reddened and slick from where his mouth had suckled with ravenous intensity - he had indulged just as greedily in whatever flesh you offered up.

Now, in the quiet stillness that followed, you seemed unable to meet Byakuya's eyes as you carefully rearranged your sleep robe over your disheveled form. He could see the faint blush tingeing your cheeks, the tension knotting your shoulders as if bracing for scathing recriminations.

But Byakuya found himself utterly bereft of the capacity for further anger or hostility in that moment. All he felt was a profound sense of...of what exactly? Satiety? Confusion? A complex snarl of emotions too tangled to fully parse in the wake of the cataclysmic shift that had just reshaped their relationship forever.

Eventually, you cleared your throat and slid off the bed, bare feet whispering against the tatami mats as you moved towards the bathroom door.

"I'm going to bathe," you stated simply, voice tightly controlled as you refused to meet his weighted gaze. "We...we can discuss...this...later."

You gestured vaguely with one hand, as if that single ambiguous wave could somehow encapsulate the entirety of what had just occurred between you both. Byakuya watched you slip through the doorway without another word, limbs feeling unaccountably heavy as the silence resettled around him.

Now alone in the aftermath's quiet stillness, he slumped back against the disheveled bedding with a ragged exhalation. His eyes drifted shut as he attempted to process the whirlwind that had just ransacked every carefully constructed barrier and unspoken agreement in their marriage.

The brutally honest confrontation triggered by years of simmering resentments and unvoiced desires...the way you had so deliberately, undeniably provoked him with those lascivious acts in retaliatory challenge...the searing, unraveling rapture of finally indulging in the intimate connection he had starved for from you throughout their union after holding back for so impossibly long...

It had all happened with such cascading swiftness, crashing over them both in a tsunami of unchecked passion that continuing to deny or ignore the fundamental seismic shift between them simply wasn't an option anymore. Not after the boundaries keeping you both so rigidly bound behind those frigid walls had been obliterated so irreparably.

The mocking, heated accusation you'd hurled at Byakuya in between each deftly skilled caress still echoed like smoke-tinged rasp in his mind.

"Shut up and just take what you've been craving all this time...maybe I'll consider making an honest man out of you yet..."

Even in the raw, blistering throes of that confrontation - and the subsequent shattering of every remaining constraint between you - he had never managed to put words to the raging, all-consuming yearning scalding through him. Not in any way that could accurately encapsulate the countless unfulfilled cravings and fevered imaginings he'd harbored deep in his most guarded recesses regarding you.

But now, with the undeniable taste of your skin still clinging to his tongue like a shameless brand...now that the walls restraining your union had crumbled to ash and the foundations left to be rebuilt upon smoldering rubble...

Byakuya could no longer avoid naming the ugly, visceral truth underlying every gnarled facet of his existence as your husband in cold, stark clarity.

He loved you. Utterly, irrevocably, with every fiber of his wretched being in a way that utterly defied the conventions of blood relation or the hollow pretenses you'd both sworn to uphold so rigidly over the years. The realization felt like a physical blow - undoing intricate ribbons of delusion that had kept him stumbling through their union in wretched half-measures and self-denial for far too long.

Byakuya opened his eyes again, throat growing viscously tight as a thousand half-formed recollections began playing out in disjointed succession across his memory. Subtle moments and infinitesimal details that now took on heightened significance in retrospect - illuminating how the towering edifice of his hubris and pride had kept him walled off from acknowledging the deeper truth flourishing beneath even as it festered like an untreated cancer.

Your rare, fleeting smiles that had always unknotted something deep and unreachable within his core...the elegant poise and unshakable pride you carried at all times that never failed to provoke stirrings of perverse, maddening desire in him...the banked spark of keen intelligence glinting behind those depthless russet irises anytime you saw straight through to the core truths he tried so desperately to conceal from the world.

It was all part and parcel to the tumultuous, passionate infatuation - no, the feverish embodiment of love itself - that had snaked its tendrils through the framework of his soul so inextricably that he could no more uproot it than rip out his own throbbing heart.

As for whether those same treacherous undercurrents flowed both ways between your entwined existences? Byakuya no longer felt certain enough in his previous delusions to discount that terrifying possibility out of hand either...not after you had so forcefully, irrefutably demonstrated your capacity to match his darkest hungers in kind mere moments ago.

A decade ago, even a year ago, Byakuya would have scoffed at such foolishly naive romantic notions about the true essence undergirding your joined fates in utter disdain. But now, as his seed dried in rapidly cooling streaks across your discarded sheets and the final ashen fragments of composure crumbled away around his raw, naked nerves...

Now, Byakuya faced the terrifyingly inescapable truth that he had always loved you, even when neither of your fractured souls could bear the weight of admitting it for what it truly was. And with the irrevocable upheaval of cataclysmic intimacy now binding you in ways you had both fought tooth and nail to avoid over the decades...there was simply no running from that ugly, all-consuming reality any longer.

Byakuya remained lying in the disheveled bedding long after the sounds of running water ceased, staring up at the ornate wooden beams spanning the ceiling above in contemplative stillness. Part of him anticipated your eventual re-emergence after finishing your bathing rituals, steeling himself for whatever terse conversation or emotional confrontation might be looming on the other side of that closed door.

Yet the shadows gradually shifted across the room's layout, morning light trickling away into the dimmer hues of late afternoon...and still you didn't return to face him. A knot of unease began unfurling low in Byakuya's belly as the weighted silence stretched on interminably, broken only by the occasional muted sounds of the manor's daily operations filtering in from beyond their private sanctuary.

When night had finally fallen in earnest over the Kuchiki grounds once more, he could no longer ignore the stark truth sinking its hooks into his resolute defenses - you were quite deliberately avoiding crossing paths with him after your earlier...indiscretion together. An ugly, all-too-familiar sense of roiling anguish stirred in Byakuya's chest as his mind immediately leapt to assume the worst possible implications.

You regretted the escalated passion that had flared so violently between you, the way your bodies had betrayed that dark, gnarled undercurrent of unfulfilled hunger in such an obscene manner. More than that, you no doubt reviled Byakuya himself for being the one to provoke you into casting propriety and restraint aside so recklessly. The disgust and recriminations you must be wallowing in at having permitted such a lapse in control, in having sunk to his depraved level even briefly.

He couldn’t help but regret installing that connecting door to the adjoining room—the one you might have used as an escape route.

Byakuya could practically envision the self-loathing and righteous indignation painting your lovely features into a rictus sneer, condemning your own moment of weakness as well as the vile man who had catalyzed it so shamelessly. He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the barrage of visions and harsh realities he had only just begun bracing himself to confront.

Still, some defiant kernel of determination flared hot and brilliant in Byakuya's core as his hand fisted in the mussed bedding. No, he wouldn't simply resign himself to wilting in the wake of your retreat and rejection - hadn't he sworn to himself that he would persist in laying his truth bare no matter the consequences? This tipping point had been years...decades...lifetimes in the making between your fractured souls. To simply allow it to wither and dissipate without being given the chance to finally bloom into its full, radiant potential.

Well, he would be forsaking his fundamental identity as a man who stared down damnation without flinching from the abyss glaring back. So Byakuya rose with unhurried grace, already tugging his rumpled yukata into order and fastening his obi with sharp, precise movements. If you refused to seek him out and confront this pivotal event head-on, then he would come to you and force the issue into the blistering light of day whether you welcomed his presence or not.

It didn't take much effort to pinpoint your location thanks to the ingrained spiritual awareness thrumming between your soul strands like a richly textured vibration Byakuya could follow with eyes closed. You had retreated into one of the private studies nearer the rear private gardens, no doubt seeking solitary refuge from the intrusive reminders of your...lapse throughout the rest of the manor's confines.

Though he made no particular effort to mask his presence, Byakuya still swept through the veiled doorway like a specter born from twilight's ominous womb. You sat with your back angled towards him in a regal sprawl across one of the plush zabutons tucked into a quiet alcove. The motionless line of your shoulders betrayed no hint of having registered his arrival despite the absolute stillness enveloping the chamber around you.

Still, Byakuya knew you had felt the faintest whisper of his reiatsu sliding across your metaphysical senses like an insistent lover's caress the moment he crossed the threshold into your sanctuary. He allowed the weighted pause to fully permeate the space between you as he crossed the inlaid wood in unhurried strides, barely daring to draw an unnecessary breath.

Finally, he halted a few scant paces behind you, near enough to detect the subtle notes of your preferred jasmine oil wafting up from the elegant tumble of your hair. Byakuya felt his next inhale rasp with visceral longing to simply surge forward and draw that rich fragrance deep into his core through means more intimately satisfying than filtered air.

"You've been avoiding me," he said at last, refusing to couch the blunt statement in any veneer of pretense. They had both crossed too far over the precipice earlier to retreat back into vapid niceties and propriety at this juncture.

Your shoulders stiffened minutely at the flat declaration, though you otherwise remained facing away from him in rigid silence. Byakuya allowed the lingering beats to draw out into a fraught pause before continuing in that same measured, unhurried timbre.

“Was what transpired between us this morning truly so vile that it warrants treating me like an outcast within the walls of my own home, [Y/N]?”

There it was - the undisguised hint of challenge woven through his softly uttered words like dull razors' edges catching flesh. Your sharp inhalation was the only audible tell, but Byakuya easily detected the full-body shudder ghosting across your shoulders in the wake of his barbed implication.

"Don't be ridiculous, Byakuya," you parried at last, equally stripped of the archaic verbal niceties you typically shrouded yourselves in. "You know precisely why I require...space after the events of this morning."

Your voice hitched with the faintest waver on that last word, immediately firing a pulse of dark satisfaction lancing through Byakuya's vitals. So his earlier suspicions regarding the origins of your abrupt withdrawal and subsequent retreat appeared to have been well-founded.

"And just how long do you intend to continue deluding yourself with such hollow deflections, I wonder?" he rumbled, relishing the sharp edge lacing each acidic syllable.

You whipped around to face him fully, Back stiffening as that familiar spark of challenge flickered to life in your eyes. "Deflections?" you echoed with a derisive snort. "Rich words coming from you of all people, Byakuya."

He arched one brow cooly, undeterred by your opening volley. "Am I wrong? Or have you simply become so accustomed to your own lies that you've forgotten what emotional honesty even looks like anymore?"

The barb hit its mark, visibly ruffling your composure if only for an instant before the icy mask slammed back into place. You lifted your chin in that subtly arrogant tilt Byakuya knew so infuriatingly well.

"Why don't you just come out and say what's really eating at you already?" You took a few pointed steps across the study until you could glare up at him directly. "This self-righteous hostility of yours is getting quite old, dear husband."

Byakuya felt his jaw tighten fractionally at the thinly veiled insinuation lacing your words. That you thought him simply lashing out blindly out of bitterness or spite rather than addressing the real, scathingly painful truth festering between you.

"What's really 'eating at me', [Y/N]?" he ground out, leaning in until your noses were nearly brushing. “I’ll tell you—it’s the endless, damnable pretense we’ve both been dancing around for decades. This pathetic farce of empty rituals and unfulfilling obligations we bound ourselves to, all according to everyone else’s terms but our own.”

You bristled like an affronted cat, color heightening across those sharp cheekbones he'd spent many a furtive hour admiring from afar. "You make it sound as if we entered this arrangement under coercion!" you hissed, voice lowering to a throaty rasp. "Need I remind you who initially proposed our practical partnership to begin with?"

"Hardly," Byakuya fired back without missing a beat. “I distinctly remember proposing a pragmatic political union that met the bare minimum requirements, while still sparing us from the messier entanglements that would be unbecoming of our stations.”

His lips twisted into a cutting smirk, daring to dig a little deeper under your defenses. "What I don't recall is swearing any vows about outright neglecting even the most perfunctory of marital obligations, wife."

As expected, the implication regarding your wifely "failings" hit enough of a raw nerve to earn him an outraged snarl of breath as your fingers clenched at your sides. "How dare you attempt to frame this entire situation as me being negligent! You arrogant, entitled—"

"Entitled?!" Byakuya cut you off with a harsh bark of laughter that was anything but humorous. "You're calling me entitled for wanting more than scraps of acknowledgment and empty gestures from the woman whose name I've carried on my soul alongside every particle of my existence? Do you have any idea how that sounds leaving your lips?"

Your eyes flashed pure venom at the unsubtle dig. "So sorry to disappoint you if I haven't properly stroked your ego and fragile male pride during our several lifetimes together," you shot back with biting sarcasm. "But I wouldn't exactly consider succumbing to meaningless romantic frivolities to be one of my sworn 'wifely duties' either!"

The sound of Byakuya's teeth grinding together audibly filled the sudden stillness as you both froze in the wake of your words. He searched your indignant expression hungrily, feeling that same maddening kernel of yearning beginning to pulse with heated vitality once more.

"Meaningless frivolities..." he echoed with a slow shake of his head, relishing the way your throat worked on a tight swallow as he leaned incrementally closer. “You truly want to sit there and try to convince me that’s all you see intimacy between us as? Just empty, meaningless fluff unworthy of your precious emotional investment?”

Byakuya watched in smoldering silence as the first hairline fractures began splintering across your icy veneer of composure. You licked your lips in what seemed like an unconscious tell of discomfort before regaining yourself with visible effort.

"I'm not going to justify such a ridiculous line of inquiry with any further response," you stated, each word enunciated with utmost precision. "Especially not from someone so incapable of viewing such deeply personal matters through any lens beyond their own selfishness."

Before the words even finished leaving your lips, Byakuya had closed what little distance remained separating your bodies, his chest hovering a hairsbreadth from yours. You sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden proximity, those quicksilver eyes of yours widening a fraction before narrowing in obvious challenge at his unspoken provocation.

"Selfish?" he rumbled, the words vibrating between you like a livewire set to combust. "Maybe if you repeat the same bitter delusions often enough, you'll eventually convince even that dark, shriveled thing you call a heart that I'm the one poisoning everything between us with my indulgent selfishness."

You seemed to swell with indignant fury at the blasphemous insinuations scoring so close to bone. Byakuya could practically taste the sparks of vicious heat flaring off you in waves.

"I will not be spoken to in such a disrespectful manner!" you hissed in a low rasp of warning. "Especially not by you, Byakuya. Not after everything I've endured, everything I've sacrificed to uphold the sacred integrity of this family!"

His chuckle emerged low and ominous, teetering on the knife-edge of mockery in a way he knew would enrage you even further. "Do go on, by all means. Tell me more tall tales about all the terrible suffering you've endured at married to a man burning with obsessive passion for you."

Byakuya trailed off with a pointed look that left no illusions about his meaning. He watched your throat work convulsively around what was either denial or revulsion at the blatant overture.

“As if your painfully unrequited infatuations somehow undermine every bit of my integrity and sense of duty to this household,” you countered with naked disdain. "Just because you've become so blinded by the pitiful compulsions poisoning your perspective..."

Your next inhalation wavered audibly as Byakuya slid that final few millimeters forward until your bodies meshed seamlessly together from shoulder to knee - achingly intimate in a way you both recognized with dawning horror. Still, there was no use retreating or separating now - not after so much raw, scalding truth had been unleashed between you.

"You can keep deluding yourself with those tired old self-deceptions, wife," he growled, mouth practically grazing your own. "Or you can finally release that bitter, ugly pride for just this once and admit that you feel the same sick, gnawing hunger to finally unmake every single lie between us. The choice is yours..."

The gauntlet he laid at your feet seemed to ring with all the momentous impact of shattering glass against frozen steel. You stood there, breath mingling with Byakuya's in that razor-thin span of space as the last tortured seconds separating your joint fates stretched out precipitously.

He could practically taste the vortex of indecision and teetering control swirling between your dueling spirits in that viscous, electrically charged pause. As if the entire cosmos itself held its infinite breath awaiting your answer, silently screaming for you to grab the final threads of this elaborate fictional web binding you both in misery...and simply burn it all to exquisitely smoldering purification once and for all.

The silence stretched out between you, laden with decades of repressed tension and unvoiced yearnings. Byakuya watched you intently, silver eyes blazing with challenge as he awaited your response.

Finally, you inhaled a shuddering breath, squaring your shoulders as if bracing yourself.

"You want the truth?" you asked, voice low and raspy with pent-up emotion. "Fine. The truth is, I've been holding myself back from you for years, Byakuya. Holding back every urge, every desire, because I was too much of a coward to face what was happening between us."

Byakuya felt his breath catch at your frank admission, but remained silent, letting you continue uninterrupted.

"Do you know what it's been like?" you pressed on, taking a step closer until you were nearly chest-to-chest. "Waking up beside you every morning, body aching to be touched...to be held by you? Having to leave the bed and pretend like I didn't notice your...problem...when all I really wanted was for you to take me right then and there?"

Your eyes shone with a mixture of bitterness and naked longing. "I've thought about it. Dreamed about you kissing me, really kissing me. About us taking baths together and washing each other's bodies. Falling asleep tangled up, skin on skin, after making love all night long..."

You exhaled a shaky breath, reaching up to trace the sharp line of Byakuya's jaw. "But I could never let myself give in. Not when I knew you were still holding on to memories of Hisana. I didn't want to ruin that for you with my selfish desires."

The anguish in your words was unmistakable. Byakuya felt his throat constrict at the realization that some part of you had harbored insecurities about his feelings all this time. Before he could voice a response, you barreled onwards.

"I kept telling myself that whatever you were feeling for me, it was just physical," you said bitterly. "Lust born from decades of sexual frustration, nothing more. That if I gave in, let myself fall into bed with you, it would just ruin everything between us eventually."

You shook your head, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But God, Byakuya...I'm so tired of fighting this constant war inside me. Tired of denying how badly I want you, crave your touch, your kisses, your—"

Byakuya surged forward without warning, capturing your mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss that obliterated whatever confession was about to tumble from your lips. You made a muffled sound of surprise against his mouth before melting into the embrace with a desperate whimper.

His arms came around you, crushing your body flush against his as he kissed you with every ounce of the repressed passion that had been steadily unraveling him for decades. This was no chaste brushing of lips - this was a man staking an undeniable claim on the one person his entire universe revolved around.

When you finally parted, gasping for air, Byakuya leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that made you shiver.

"Listen to me," he rasped, thumbs stroking your flushed cheeks. "Whatever lingering ghosts you think still bind me to my past with Hisana...let them go, my love. You are my present, my future, the only person I've truly allowed to take up permanent residence in my heart and soul."

His words seemed to steal whatever breath you'd regained. You stared up at him with naked vulnerability shining in your eyes as he continued.

"I love you," Byakuya stated simply. "Every part of you - your strength, your pride, your beauty, and yes...even your maddening stubbornness. I have loved you for longer than I can remember, and I will continue loving you until the stars burn out in the endless sky."

A solitary tear traced down your cheek as you tried to process his declaration. Byakuya caught it with the pad of his thumb, lips quirking into the barest hint of a smile.

"So please," he murmured, dipping his head to trail kisses along the curve of your jaw. "No more pushing me away out of some misguided sense of honor or duty, beloved. Let me worship you the way my soul has longed to for eternity. Let me love you the way you deserve..."

The rest of his words faded into a heated brush of mouths and shared breaths as you surged up to recapture his lips in a desperate, needy kiss. Byakuya groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he walked you backwards until your back hit the nearest wall with a gentle thud.

His hands roamed over every inch of you hungrily, bunching the fabric of your clothing as he sought to eliminate any remaining barriers between your heated bodies. You gasped into the searing kiss when his palm found the soft swell of your breast, kneading and tweaking the hardened peak until you arched shamelessly into his touch.

"Fuck, [Y/N]..." Byakuya panted against the scorching skin of your neck as his mouth blazed a path of open-mouthed kisses downward. "You have no idea how many times I've imagined this, dreamed of having you like this."

His teeth scraped along your racing pulse before soothing the sting with an ardent sweep of his tongue. You fisted your hands in his hair, tugging sharply in a silent plea for more as you rolled your hips against the insistent ridge of his cock.

"Tell me," you rasped, voice already wrecked with need. "Tell me what dark, filthy fantasies you've been entertaining about me all these years, Byakuya."

His answering growl vibrated against the swell of your breast as his mouth found the exposed flesh there, lips and tongue lavishing devout attention until you were keening softly. One broad hand slid possessively down your body to hitch your thigh over his hip, grinding his clothed erection against your core.

"I've thought about bending you over every available surface and fucking you until you couldn't walk straight," he rasped, punctuating each crude word with a sharp roll of his hips that had you both panting harshly. "About spreading those gorgeous thighs and feasting on your cunt until you're a sobbing, incoherent mess beneath my tongue..."

You whimpered at the lewd confessions, nails scoring down Byakuya's back as the delicious friction against your rapidly dampening sex left you nearly delirious. He captured your mouth again in a punishing kiss, all heat and slick desperation as you ground together frantically.

"But most of all," he growled when you finally parted for air. Stormy silver eyes bored into yours, pupils blown wide with lust and something deeper...something primal and proprietary you'd never seen in their depths before. "I've burned for the chance to make you truly mine in every sense. To bury myself so deep inside this perfect little cunt and pump you full of my seed over and over until you're round with my child."

The guttural cadence of his words punched the air from your lungs in a harsh gasp. Byakuya took full advantage, mouth and hands growing rougher, more demanding as he scented the first hints of your arousal sharpening in the charged air between you.

"That's what you want too, isn't it?" he husked against the swollen curve of your lips, tongue flicking out to taste the desperate whimpers spilling past them. "You want me to breed you properly, the way a husband should stake his claim on his wife...don't you, my beloved?"

The only response you could formulate was a strangled keen of sheer ecstasy as Byakuya seized your other thigh, bodily lifting you until your legs were wrapped around his narrow hips. He rolled his pelvis against your molten core again, savoring the way your head tipped back shamelessly at the promise of that delicious friction.

"Yes..." you finally rasped, arms looping around his neck as your lust-glazed eyes met his burning stare pleadingly. "God, yes, Byakuya! Take me, breed me, do whatever you want. I'm fucking yours, always have been..."

His lips crashed back onto yours in a searing, utterly possessive kiss that seared you all the way down to your bones. Byakuya's hands cupped your ass firmly, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh there while he walked the two of you further into the room, intent on laying claim to his wife at long last.

You barely registered the moment the backs of your thighs hit the edge of the desk until you were sprawled back onto the polished wood, legs splayed wantonly and chest heaving with rapid breaths. Byakuya stood there for a few moments, drinking in the sight of you spread out like a decadent feast before his ravenous gaze.

"My beautiful, infuriating wife," he growled, palming his aching cock through the strained fabric of his pants. "What have you done to me..."

You moaned, squirming impatiently as you watched him strip the rest of his clothes off in quick, efficient motions. Every inch of his pale, lithely muscular body was pure perfection - from the elegant sweep of his neck and chiseled planes of his chest, down to the proud jut of his erection, thick and leaking against his lower belly.

Your core clenched involuntarily at the thought of having all that glorious manhood buried inside you to the hilt. You couldn't recall ever feeling this needy and desperate for another person in your entire existence, let alone centuries worth of memories.

"Byakuya..." you panted, reaching out a hand to beckon him closer. "Come here. Please, I need—"

The rest of your sentence dissolved into a high pitched squeal as your husband all but lunged forward, hauling you back up against him by the waist. His mouth claimed yours in a bruising, hungry kiss while his fingers worked furiously at the fastenings of your clothing, clearly beyond the point of patience and finesse.

You tugged off the loose silk robe and top, leaving you clad in nothing but your undergarments. Byakuya's palms ran over the newly exposed skin reverently, lips trailing hot, wet kisses across the tops of your breasts before tugging the straps down to expose them fully.

He thumbed one pert, aching nipple, rolling and pinching the hardened bud until you were writhing helplessly against his chest. You cried out at the first wet, scorching suckle, spine bowing with pleasure as he worshipped your sensitive breasts with a thoroughness that bordered on obscene.

"Mmmm, I wanted to do so much more to you this morning," he husked, laving his tongue across the pebbled nub before giving it a firm, sharp suck that had you keening. "Wanted to see how long it would take me to make you cum, just from worshipping these gorgeous tits..."

Your breath hitched audibly at the erotic admission. The mental image of waking up to this version of Byakuya, all sleepy-eyed and ravenous, laving his wicked mouth and clever fingers all over your breasts was so intoxicating, you couldn't stop the broken whimper from slipping past your lips.

Byakuya smirked against your skin, seeming to sense the effect his words were having on you. "I know," he crooned, fingers pinching and pulling at the other nipple. "I've spent a good portion of our marriage imagining how many times I could get you to cum on my tongue alone before begging me for my cock."

You whimpered at the vulgar picture those words painted, hips arching off the desk in a silent plea for relief. Byakuya's palms glided down the slope of your abdomen, thumbs stroking the tender skin of your inner thighs.

"You can’t blame me," he continued, mouth descending lower, leaving a hot, wet trail of open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips across the sensitive flesh. "You never even gave me a chance to see what this tight little hole looks like stretched around my cock. To taste your honey as you gush for me over and over..."

The last of his words dissolved into a filthy groan as his teeth latched around the lacy band of your panties, tugging them down and off in one swift motion. You could barely contain the breathless cry of shock as Byakuya's lips and tongue immediately found the slick juncture between your thighs.

He lapped at you hungrily, broad hands holding your hips pinned against the desk as he ate your cunt like a man starved. You cried out, fisting a hand in his hair while the other grasped desperately at the edge of the desk for purchase.

Byakuya groaned low in his throat as the musky, earthy taste of you flooded his mouth. He could have spent hours between your thighs, just drinking in the honeyed sweetness of your desire and reveling in the desperate little whimpers you made each time he dragged his tongue across your throbbing clit.

He settled into a relentless rhythm, alternating between firm, flat-tongued licks and sucking your swollen bud until you were a writhing, babbling mess atop the desk. When he finally slipped two long, slender fingers into your dripping core, you nearly sobbed at the delicious fullness.

"I don’t think I can wait any longer," Byakuya growled, curling the digits inside you just so until you were practically drooling with pleasure. "Not when you're this hot, and wet, and eager for me. Not after you kept me waiting so long..."

His thumb circled the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your slit, watching the way your eyes fluttered and your thighs trembled with the telltale signs of a rapidly approaching climax. "Do you think you're ready for me, sweet wife?"

You managed a weak nod, still reeling from the mind-melting pleasure his fingers and mouth were wreaking on your body. Byakuya leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he withdrew his digits and guided his straining cock towards your entrance.

A ragged moan slipped past his lips as the swollen, leaking head brushed the soaked, molten heat of your core. It took every ounce of his iron will to keep from slamming home with a single brutal thrust. Instead, he teased your entrance with shallow, gentle strokes, watching the way his length glistened each time it emerged coated with your essence.

"Byakuya, please!" you begged, nails scoring down his back. "Fuck me already, I'm dying—"

He silenced the rest of your desperate pleading with a savage, searing kiss, hips jerking forward just enough for the swollen tip to slip past the fluttering rim of your cunt. Byakuya savored the way you moaned brokenly into his mouth at the sensation, the way your body instinctively arched up to seek out more.

He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours and meeting your heated, half-lidded gaze with an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through to your soul. "I want you to look at me," he murmured, the words little more than a growl as he began to slowly, inexorably sink into the tight, slick heaven of your body. "Look at me as I take you for the first time, make you mine in the most primal, sacred way possible. Don't look away..."

The command was issued as much to himself as to you. He couldn't recall ever seeing anything more exquisite than the sight of you taking him inch by agonizing inch - flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, eyes blazing with need and desire and an emotion far more profound than he could possibly name.

"I love you," you choked out, tears streaking down your cheeks at the sheer rightness of being connected to him this way. "Oh God, Byakuya...I love you so much!"

His heart stuttered at the declaration, and it took every last vestige of his fraying control not to slam home with a single, savage thrust. Byakuya paused halfway, giving your body a chance to adjust to his considerable size as he brushed a lock of hair away from your tear-stained face.

"I love you too, my darling," he husked, kissing you with aching gentleness. "More than I could ever find the words to say."

With that, he surged forward, sheathing himself completely within the scorching, slick confines of your cunt until you were both gasping for air. You clutched at him, arms and legs locking around his torso as if desperate to hold him in place, to keep him buried inside the molten depths of your core forever.

"B-Byakuya," you stuttered, the syllables dissolving into a high, needy whine as he began to withdraw slowly. The drag of his thick, hard length against your inner walls was enough to make your eyes roll back with ecstasy.

When only the flared crown remained buried within you, Byakuya snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt once again. He set a punishing pace, fucking you hard and fast against the polished wood, until the only sounds filling the air were the slap of sweat-slick skin and your combined moans and cries of pleasure.

"God, you feel amazing," he rasped against your mouth, hands cupping the supple curve of your ass, tilting your hips at just the right angle for him to hammer against that perfect, spongy spot deep within. "Like you were made just for me."

You whimpered, unable to form coherent words as you met each thrust eagerly, rolling your pelvis and matching him stroke for stroke. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, coiling tighter and tighter as the friction and pressure of his thick, unyielding cock began to unravel you.

Byakuya felt the familiar, molten tension coiling in his lower belly as well, his orgasm racing towards the breaking point despite his best efforts. He didn't want this to end, didn't want to leave the paradise of your tight, welcoming cunt even for a moment, but he knew there was no way he could hold out much longer.

He reached down, finding the swollen bundle of nerves above where your bodies were joined and circling it with his thumb. "Cum for me, my beloved," he growled, angling his thrusts until he was hitting that spot inside you over and over. "Show me how beautiful you look when you fall apart for me."

Your body obeyed his command immediately, back arching and head tossing wildly as your core clenched around his throbbing length. A scream ripped free from your lungs as the dam broke, and the pleasure washed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Byakuya cursed hoarsely at the exquisite feeling of your slick, molten cunt fluttering and pulsing around him, nearly bringing him over the edge himself. He rode out the waves of your release, groaning when the hot, sticky flood of your honey began dripping down his balls.

It took all the willpower he could muster to resist the urge to spill his seed right then and there. With a ragged breath, Byakuya slowed his movements, gently rolling his hips as your shudders subsided. He peppered the soft skin of your neck and collarbone with light, worshipful kisses, murmuring his adoration as you slowly came back to reality.

"My beloved wife," he crooned, the possessive timbre of his voice making you shiver. "I've dreamed about the sight of you cumming around my cock, but the reality was a thousand times better than anything my mind could ever conjure up."

Your face flushed at the erotic confession, eyes fluttering shut when he pressed a gentle kiss against the corner of your mouth. You could still feel the thick length of his erection pulsing inside you, the subtle twitches and jerks telling you just how badly he needed release.

"Please, I need more," you whimpered, clenching around him. "I want you to fill me up, make me yours..."

The words were like a shot of pure lust straight to Byakuya's brain. His control snapped, and suddenly you were on your back, legs splayed wantonly over the edge of the desk. Your husband braced his palms against the wood, fingers tangling with yours as he loomed over you.

"Look at me," he demanded, hissing as the new angle allowed him to go even deeper. "Keep looking at me, no matter what."

You barely had a chance to process the command before Byakuya began to move again. This time, there was nothing slow or gentle about the way he drove into you. It was fast, and deep, and rough - his thick cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt with the singular purpose of breeding you, making you his and his alone.

Each powerful stroke hit that spot inside you perfectly, the head of his cock dragging across the sensitive bundle of nerves with a force that had you nearly sobbing with ecstasy. You struggled to keep your eyes open, watching the way his muscles rippled and flexed with each thrust, the way his eyes burned with a possessive, primal light as he claimed you in the most basic, visceral way imaginable.

Byakuya was utterly lost, drunk on the feeling of your velvety walls clamping down around him and the knowledge that he was the first and only man to have you like this. That you had waited all these years, just as he had, for this moment. He could feel his orgasm threatening to shatter him at any moment, the molten heat pooling in his abdomen, but there was no way he was going to let go before bringing you over the edge again.

He slipped a hand between your writhing bodies, pinching and rubbing the swollen, hypersensitive bundle of nerves. Your cry was near-hysterical, nails scoring down his back and legs trembling as he pushed you ever closer to the edge.

"Byakuya! I—I'm going to—"

Your breathless warning was cut off by his mouth, devouring the keening wail of your release as the tension in your belly snapped and the waves of pleasure crashed over you again. The feeling of your slick cunt fluttering and convulsing around him was enough to shatter what was left of Byakuya's fraying control.

He buried himself as deep as possible, the head of his cock grinding against the deepest, most intimate parts of your body as his climax tore through him. He groaned brokenly against your mouth, hips jerking reflexively with each spurt of cum, painting your womb with his seed.

The two of you remained locked together, sharing shuddering, gasping breaths as the aftershocks rippled through you. Byakuya nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating, uniquely you scent while he tried to convince his body to move.

"Don't," you whispered, arms tightening around his waist as if sensing his intent. "Just stay like this, please."

He chuckled, pressing a tender kiss against your throat. "Believe me, I would love nothing more, my sweet. But I‘d rather we continue this in the comfort of our bed, preferably before any of the servants return and catch us in such a compromising position."

Your face flamed at the reminder that your husband had, in fact, fucked you within an inch of your life atop his desk, with the door wide open. "Good point," you mumbled sheepishly.

Honestly, Shoko might be one of the Queen’s most favored healers- but you really think she’s been neglecting the health of her eyes lately. Daring to elbow her in the side, “Don’t jest!”

She snickers, and you’re sure you detect the nearby daughter of a merchant family haughtily sniff your way—“I do no such thing.” Though, not for too long, fortunately for the two of your necks, because just then Duke Nanami’s stepping into clear view of the party - and you’d never glimpsed so many aristocratic mouths drop.

So many ladies (and some gentlemen) fluster, and so many older heads of families water at the mouth like they’d just spotted the most delectable prey. 

Understandable, however.

Because if Nanami was thoroughly agreeable to your eyes in the few peeks you’d stolen at him- then he was almost other-wordly now.

With the most charming, tidy golden hair pushed back, a few curls coiling at the nape of his high collar. A towering stature that made even the most accomplished generals hunch in on themselves, and you nearly audibly gulp at the broad flex of his arms within his navy jacket. Stern. Stoic. 

His molten, intense eyes peek over thin-rimmed glasses at the buzzing guests ahead, and you swear that they begin to stray somewhere near you—

“Heavens! Must I repeat myself, you common scullion?”

Ah, at the way Marquess Zenin Naoya was saddled right behind you and spitting hellfire, surely. 

You rush to bend into an apologetic bow, so low that the knobs of your spine start to ache- “Please forgive my impudence, My Lord-”

“Have you nothing between your ears but lint?” He’s growling, spindly hands tightening on his empty goblet of wine until you hear the silver material creak. And it’s hitting you right then n’ there that in your haste to ogle Duke Nanami, you must have failed to heed Naoya’s calls for more drink-

He turns his sharp profile to the side and spits on a patch of clean-cut grass, “A servant that knows not her place is no better than dirt. What do you gawk at like so?” 

“N-nothing, My Lord.”

And you can only watch, in slow-motion terror, as Naoya flicks his beady gaze behind you- and his sour face tenses at the vision of the tall newcomer that’d easily - and very obviously - ousted his mantle as the most eligible bachelor present. “That ol’ duke? Heh- dreaming that he’d bed a wench, did you?”

“Forgive me, sir, it was not my intent to give offence.” You’re breathing out, first clenching as you feel the withering looks that were starting to prop up around you two. Everybody loved a scandal. Trembling hands reaching out for his cup, “I-if you would allow me to just refill-”

“Don’t touch me!”

CLANG!

It happens all at once. 

The heavy goblet clatters to the floor, a warm chest nuzzles your back, and a strong hand was locked right around Naoya’s raised wrist. Right before he could strike. 

“It seems her highness’s liquor is exceptionally strong.” Nanami’s deep baritone sounds above your head and makes your skin bead with a blanket of goosebumps. 

And it’s slightly husky. So attractive. 

Especially when he’s tilting his head down so close, something primal in his eyes that made it feel like he was on the very verge of devouring you whole. Right there in the middle of the bustling garden party. Humming sternly, “Yuji, please escort our impaired marquess somewhere ah…quieter.”

“Y-yes, Nanamin- I mean, Your Grace!”

You’re watching, speechless, as a younger boy with the most vibrant head of pink locks runs up from behind and grabs onto both of Naoya’s shoulders to bodily steer him away from you.

He must have been stronger than he looked, clearly, because the proud heir was being lugged away like a sack of potatoes no matter how much he squirmed and fought - much to the amusement of the party-dwellers. And you.

But you’re quick to bite back your startled laughter once you’re realizing that Nanami Kento was still holding onto you. And not just stood behind- you must have stumbled amidst all the commotion because he had a large hand gripped onto your hip to steady you.

You were in his arms. 

Gasping, “O-oh.” You couldn’t have broken off faster from him, knees strangely weak as you’re forcing them into yet another curtsy, “I am so-”

“My deepest apologies, Honorable Miss.” The duke beats you to it, a strange smile playing along his stern lips as he bends into an even deeper bow. “I should have asked prior to touching a lady.”

“A-a lady!” You’re squawking, in what was most definitely an unladylike manner. Hands wringing to gesture him to straighten as much as you could without it being seen as defiance against one of the crème de la crème of nobility. “I assure you I am no such thing, Your Grace.”

Just then he kisses the back of your hand in greeting, “Please, call me ‘Nanami’- or ‘Kento’, should you wish, ma’am.”

“It- it is beneath you to be designated that by me-”

“I insist.”

And if everyone here was watching the upending chaos before, then they simply couldn’t remove their eyes by now. 

Whilst Nanami - still bowed - only tilted his head up with a smile, looking at you through his long, pale lashes.

You lift the humble fabrics of your working dress, a thick, dark-colored wool that marked you different from the tittering daughters of the upper-class. “B-but I am only in service to her highness.”

“Is that so?” And you’re breathing a sigh of relief as he stands back to his broad, proud figure- finally, he’s understood and would prance off as all young bachelors did to- “For I only gaze upon the most beautiful lady that has graced the floor this evening, and my blessed gaze.”

What?

“Have a charmed night-” Nanami has a dimple- he has a dimple that winks from the side of his grin as he turns and nods down with the velvety brim of his hat. “-My Lady.”

My Lady.

Utahime’s hands clap down on your rigid shoulders. “Sole heir to the Nanami fortune. Rich, handsome, aware when to cease talking.” Her low whistle rings in the air- tinged with such scandal, “Fiend seize it! I should hasten to practice your new title then, Duchess Nanami.”

“You have a lamentable deficiency in wit-”

Utahime, reputably sensible tutor to the offspring of the royal ladies-in-waiting, and known blockhead around your little trio. “And you have a lamentable deficiency in eyesight.” Sighing, “The look he bestowed upon you, my dear…”

“Or would it be ‘My Lordliness.’” Shoko croons in as well, sipping on a flute of bubbly champagne definitely not meant for her. “Oh-so-beautiful wife of Duke Nanami-”

“Attend to your duties!”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to my attention - and certainly to that of all the ladies who frequent the halls of Mayfair - something for which you should do well to brace your hearts. Whispers spread that the most eligible bachelor of the season, gentle Duke Nanami Kento, erupted quite the scandal during her majesty’s garden soirée by fixing his much sought-after attentions upon none other than a humble chambermaid. 

Yes, you read that correctly, dear reader. For someone reputed in the upper echelons of society for being as stoic as he is handsome, Duke Nanami shares his first spark of interest as he searches for a bride this season.

So heed this author’s advice; as the famed noble resides in the royal palace for the rest of his stay, keep an eye about. For you may just be lucky to be named Duchess of the House of Nanami.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

.

.

.

“This is preposterous!”

“It is absolute truth-”

“It is a sham is what it is.” You’re nearly crying out as you shove Lady Whistledown’s latest scandal sheet back into Shoko’s arms. “He- the duke never fixed his attentions on me.”

And your best friend didn’t spare you a word, only a long, narrowed stare of her intelligent eyes that made your stomach twist. 

Did Nanami fix his- no. While you and Shoko huddled into a hidden alcove within the sprawling walls of the palace to read the latest on-dit gossip, you smacked yourself back into reality. 

The nobility often did have nothing much to entertain themselves with outside of fanning scandal. He was powerful. He was attractive. And he has as many prospects as there were knights in this palace, surely!

Because - of course, for the universe did love to laugh at your expense - he’d taken residency in the palace until the season ended, as one of the Queen’s guests. 

Days later you could count every look, every smile, every bow- goodness, there was that one time that you’d been placing cutlery along the winding royal dinner table. Only for Nanami’s engulfing fingertips to brush against yours and make your skin scorch with his whisper, “Thank you, my lady.”

You’re almost befogged why that wasn’t splashed across Lady Whistledown’s writing- chambermaid loses her wits, hear ye!

“Wh-whichever way one looks at it.” You’re stammering out, realizing that you’d been quiet for much too long. “His grace is simply raising some kind of mischief.”

“Certainly.” She was not certain.

“Just you wait- by the end of this season, Duke Nanami will be married to a lady of high standing and I shall–”

“Be disengaged?” That wasn’t the monotone, sarcastic voice of your longest friend.

It was something masculine, something amused. And it was emanating right from the open space of the corridor reading up to the alcove. 

You don’t have to turn your head to realize who it is - Nanami Kento. 

Though, you do turn anyway. And you almost regret it when you’re stuck by the sheer intensity of his stare, of his face leaned down so close. So intimately that you can’t stop yourself from flitting a sharp glance down at his plush, curving pink lips. 

Perhaps Lady Whistledown wasn’t all that wrong - especially about him being handsome…

“Apologies for startling you, ma’am.” Nanami cuts your traitorous thoughts short by slowly tilting something flat and cream-colored in one hand. “Permit me to explain- will you hopefully be disengaged to attend the upcoming Royal Diamond Ball? Perhaps?”

You’re bowing, confused. “Y-yes, Your Grace. I shall be of service during her highness’s ball.”

It was only the most anticipated assembly this entire year, the annual gathering right in the Queen’s Great Hall to announce the diamond of the season. 

And in only a week, every single servant of the palace was to work themselves to the bone - welcoming, chaperoning, making note of the newly-made unions to titter over much later. 

“Ah, allow me to clarify.” Rubbing a free hand behind his neck, the famed Nanami Kento almost looks…sheepish. “What I meant was- might you be disengaged to…” Staring right at you, hypnotic. “-join me?”

“…What?”

“Of course, it would be no trouble at all if you can not spare a moment, I should be happy to merely converse with you.”

It slips out- “Th-that’s madness. All those ladies-in-waiting-”

Then he’s clasping your hands, he’s pressing the invitation in- but, more importantly, he’s holding you. “And yet, I would like nothing more than the pleasure of your company.” Close. Too close. His breath wafts your lips, “I hope this is not too forward of me. But should you let yourself, trust that I will take care of everything, My Lady.”

And just as soon as you think he’ll kiss you - how uncouth (though, you admittedly wouldn’t complain) - he bends at the waist to gently grasp your hand. 

“Everything.” Whispering a soft kiss into the back, Nanami lingers his lips - his gaze - for a long while. “I await eagerly for your word.”

He’s gone almost as softly, and sweetly, as he’d appeared.

Taking with him the scent of golden caramel, and the racing beat of your heart. You swear you’d have been stuck within the alcove staring behind his muscular back until nightfall had it not been for Shoko.

“So…” She plasters a wry smile once you’re turning her way, invitation trembling in your grip. And you’re noticing that upon its envelope dazzles swooping calligraphy of your name, almost certainly written by him. “Would you prefer ‘Your Gracefulness’ or ‘Duchess Nanami’?”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader,

The ton is abuzz as her majesty the Queen’s Royal Diamond Ball nears closer. And the sole heir to the house of Nanami is certainly no exception. 

This author hears directly from a reputable source within her highness’s Chamberlain Office that Duke Nanami Kento was uncharacteristically fastidious in securing himself an extra invitation. Most claim this as confirmation of his grace’s dedication to finding a bride, most also claim they’d seen the aforementioned, infamous chambermaid being handed it.

Take care of artifice; but such intrigue of a commoner attending the most prestigious ball of the year may be much more than my readers may be able to bear.

So, ladies, grab your finest gowns and shortest shawls to make haste for a chance to snag the eligible bachelor’s heart once and for all this season! And I shall, of course, be in attendance to report on all the scandals that unfold.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

.

.

.

“I look…”

“Enchanting.” Utahime nods. 

“I was thinking more toad-eaten.” You have to mentally remind yourself to close your maw and do your very best not to gape at the reflection in the decadent mirror displayed in front of you. 

Despite your words, even you couldn’t deny that the deep, sapphire-encrusted gown you were donning made you look every bit the noblewoman that you weren’t. Its Empire waist snugly crowning the flowing muslin, sleeves fashionably puffed, with tasteful gold jewelry that you wouldn’t have so much as dared to look at let alone be dolled-up into.

It was made for you.

Quite literally. Utahime had been the one to write your letter of acceptance to Duke Nanami (after shrieking herself hoarse in excitement first.) And through a week of hushed conversation with his grace, the ball evening had crept up closer and you had an army of modistes and maids knocking at your servants’ quarters.

Scrubbing you raw, painting your face, slipping you into a dress he’d ordered tailored to your exact measurements- how did he even know?

Shoko had to let you use her office, and she was deriving her payment back for it by beaming at the sight of you. “And I was thinking more Duchess of the house of Nanami-”

“Cease!”

“Ah, so you observe? You are noble in all but title already.”

Whilst Shoko and Utahime - the traitors - burst out into peels of laughter, you’re left fiddling with the silken coverings of your gloves. “You…you don’t suppose he’s making a mockery out of me, after all?”

That makes them quieten down, and Utahime hugs your shoulders in a way that thoroughly displeases the attendants and their ruffles. “You shine everyone else down, my dear. He should be lucky to have such a lovely date this evening.”

“Quite so.” Shoko nods, “And should he dare fool around, I have long sought a specimen upon whom to test my latest scalpel-”

“Shoko!”

“Do let me join.”

“U-um, ehem.” The tense, honestly frightened clearing of Itadori, his protégé’s, throat cuts your morbid conversation short. And as he looks at you, the poor boy blushes- whispering something shapes strangely like a little—“Divine.”

Before you know it, you’re being escorted down the high-ceiling corridor just as you’d always watched the sisters and wives of nobility being guided so. 

It’s a pathway more than familiar to you, yet seems so foreign once you approach the grand, imposing double doors opened to the ballroom. It was a magnificent thing; one of the Queen’s proudest possessions - with diamond chandeliers that dripped yellow light like a second sun, and a grand polished staircase kissing down from the doorway to a dance floor at the bottom.

Faint orchestra and chatter tainting the sparkling atmosphere, you breathe in nervously and even the flower-scented air seems too expensive for you.

Itadori hands the chief footman your invitation - something that makes the latter’s bushy eyebrows raise as he recognizes your name. And then the boy squeezes your hand before he leaves you off at the edge of the entrance, “His grace will be utterly bewitched, My Lady. He already is.”

Oh- what?

In the blink of an eye, he’s melted back into the crowd of other youngsters networking outside. And with nearly every guest already inside - you could only descend.

Down.

Down.

Down, the massive carpeted staircase- and it felt like every pair of eyes were on you. Most stopping mid-dance. Some whispering behind their fans. 

And one, Nanami Kento, staring at you breathless and awestruck where he’d been politely conversing with the Queen herself, and a gaggle of entranced admirers. But he only had eyes for you.

Almost frozen. Almost shocked-

Enough so that your satin-covered feet were just a few steps away from reaching down to the marble ballroom floor before you’re thinking of turning right back around and running-

“You.” A hand on your wrist, a soft pair of lips on the back of your hand. Nanami Kento had broken through just about every rule of aristocracy to storm through packs of nobles and catch your wrist before you escaped. 

And when he kisses you, it felt like he was finally breathing for the first time after years. “I had- I had not dared to hope that you would truly appear.” Staring at you through thick, golden lashes as he bends deeper into a bow. “You have honored me with the presence of the most beautiful lady to ever grace these floors.”

Languidly, you’re twisting your body back to face him - to face the crowd - and the way that the distracted orchestra has to begin their slow quadrille from the top, several teary debutantes looking between you and Nanami before shoving their faces into their fans, and even Lord Naoya was casting great attention.

Muttering.

‘Might I inquire as to that lady? Does she have prospects-’

‘Do tell- is it true what Lady Whistledown’s paper said- Bollocks! I wanted to bed Duke Nanami.’

‘My, the chambermaid? The scandal! Oh, but they are a most remarkably striking pair…’

You’re gasping when you catch a glimpse of her highness shifting on her throne to peer over curiously. Nanami had authority- but this?

Gulping, “Is this…is this folly really alright?”

“Oh, My Lady.” He fixes you with a lingering look, “For you, nothing would be folly. May I have this dance?” 

.

.

.

“M-mmm, Your Grace-”

“What did I tell you, My Lady?” Nanami’s hot, simmering pant tingles your lips as he’s lavishing you with the swirling edge of his tongue. “Call me Kento.”

And you didn’t have any reason not to.

Well, first of all you two were far, far from any of the prying eyes of the ball by now - tucked away inside the empty, luxurious royal office allocated to him by the Queen. And then he had you pushed against the corner of the wide mahogany table in the middle- hands fisted into your gown, mouth searing against yours. 

Nanami flicks the slimy edge of his tastebuds between your spit-glossed maw and groans once you’re eagerly sucking. Gasping. Heaving. “O-open your mouth.”

You’d just made the stern, stoic Duke Nanami stutter. And the thought itself is enough for you to knit your brows together and unhinge your jaw even further, “Like this?”

“Wider.”

“Mmm- like-” A glittery ribbon of saliva slicks down the corner of your lips the moment he’s parting his plump, puckered mouth and kissing you in a way you’d never even heard of. “-this?”

So primal. So heated. He’s huffing out a clouded breath through his flared nostrils, and you’re all but melting with each sleazy scour of his tongue. 

“Yeah, wider. Lest I be thought ungentlemanly-” With a thumb latching onto the point of your chin, he has one hand angling your face, and the other curving ‘round your waist to support your weakening knees easily. “Suck on my tongue, ma’am.”

Kissing you and kissing you like he’s parched and every drop of sweet, syrupy water was just drooling from your mouth.

Your whirling head barely even realizes when Nanami has you softly falling back onto the frigid surface of the table. Splayed out completely. His beefy forearm eases the impact, mouth decorating with a few strings of spittle when he’s pulling back with a dampened pwah!

Lungs still clouding out in scorching breezes, “If you would allow it, My Lady.” And you’re whimpering when the doughy mountain of his palm comes rovering down your front. Not resting for a split-second until it was right between your poor legs- “I confess, not a morsel crossed my lips throughout the ball- and I find myself quite famished.”

You’re gasping, trying to close your legs- but it’s like his palm was glued to your drivelling core. Hungry. Desperate. “B-but it is beneath your touch to do such a thing-”

“You’re never beneath my touch.” You swear you catch him look down at your clothed cunt and gulp. Fawny irises dark and dilated, “Never.”

And almost as if he’s proving his point, his free, left hand clasps around your own and flies down gingerly to the absolutely massive bulging tenting Nanami’s trousers.

Oh.

He groans.

Oh.

And he’s looking at you through narrowed, predatory eyes- words so gentle even though the way the thick cylindrical curve of his erection was anything but. “See how you make me?” And with a teary nod, your hips find themselves bucking- “Witness how you- ah.”

Rutting. 

So carnally, with your gown and chemise falling back, it makes Nanami snap his half-lidded eyes down at you like he’d just stumbled upon a five-course meal. A predator blood-thirsty for prey.

Drooling in a thin, slow trail, he hastily wipes it away like a gentleman. He wasn’t just famished - he was starved. 

And by the way his touch shakes ever-so-slightly on your body, it’s a damn miracle that he hasn’t just lost it right now. “We wouldn’t want to waste your talents on just my hand, ma’am.”

Before you can even begin to wonder what his cryptic words meant, Nanami’s making use of the years of his noble training in combat.

Flipping your two positions, laying himself out on the far table, clinging onto your squirming waist to seat you right above his heavily respiring mouth. With your chemise tugged off with one hand, he’s stealing a good look at your naked, geysering pussy and moaning–

“I-I really am quite famished.”

And his voice breaks.

Making you jerk your hips in a slight gyration- unsure where to rest. “Wh-what are you going to- oh.” Whimpering, once he’s planting a firm kiss near the inner parts of your thighs where slick travelled like an adhesive sheen. Only pushing your gown to bunch upwards, “Please!”

“I shall be having my dinner, My Lady.” Lurching you ever-closer, he had your knees straddling each side of his face and it still wasn’t close enough. “Bon appétit.”

All five of his coarse fingerpads digging into the cheeks of your ass, he flicks his wrist and drags you straight into the gaping cavern of his maw. His glistening tongue was propped out just right to spank the surface of your pussylips on his tastebuds. 

“A-ah.” Thighs trembling, it feels so strangely and erotically wet with him salivating all over. 

He feels a slippery splosh of your juices leak from your slit and straight into his gullet, the creamy taste flooding up his tongue. “O-ohhh–” Savoring. “Has anyone ever made you feel like hah- this?”

“N-not at all, Your Gr-”

“Kento.”

“K-Kento–!” It’s all that you can squeal when the flexible tendril of his muscle crowns your hole and you’re seeing stars. His tongue is just so long n’ girthy that it makes your poor, filthy entrance clench when he’s slipping just an inch inside. “Fuck- n-ngh- fuck–!”

“Charmed you’re enjoying, ma’am.” And he sounds so genuinely elated - breathy, shaken - at the pretty moans falling from your mouth like music. 

Though, it’s not enough.

It might never be enough, so the duke can only prop up slightly on one of his strong elbows just to angle his mouth into the perfect French kiss with your cunt. Slapping his tongue right over the puffy folds of your pussy, he’s licking and licking each stray bead of slick bubbling out of you until you’re all tender and glossy.

Only then is he wafting his right thumb vertically down your cute slit, “Though, not to overwork my dear lady- but might you mind lending me a…hand?”

You’re snapping your head down so fast that your chin knocks against your heaving chest, “Wh-what do you need, Your- ah, Kento?”

“Oh, nothing much, my darling. Just…” Tilting his head, Nanami’s rendering you stupidly dizzy each time he twists the callused knob of his thumb in and out of your folds. “Spit in my mouth.”

“Wh-would that be appropriate?” He was filthy.

Feral. “I would love nothing more.”

And he meant it- he truly, completely, and utterly meant it. You’re watching his prominent Adam’s apple bob greedily once the bead of pearly saliva bubbles between your lips and dead-on into his mouth. Only swirlin’ inside for a mere second before spitting right back into your polished cunt. Hard. 

Letting the fat wad slip between your lips, and Nanami doesn’t waste a single second before pushing his rugged middle finger inside your hole. 

“There we go.” Gazing in pure lecherous wonderment at the way your needy ring of muscle was swallowing him up, every single solid inch right down to his mountainous knuckle. What a tight fit. “There- there, atta girl.”

“It just feels so- ngh- so-” You don’t even know how to control yourself, hips jerking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until the globes of your ass strike his chin and make you keen. “Ah!”

“Eeeeeasy does it, ma’am.” 

And he’s still grunting your name out with that title- even as he’s pryin’ apart your bloated lips and sticking in yet another digit. The fat ends of his index swiping across, engraving his family signet ring against your very walls-

“This is only a prelude, darling.” You’re flinching at the chilling scrape of the band on his second finger, and he grins. Glueing that very grin against your throbbing clit, he spits again- “Only just getting started.”

“Fuck- fuck!” Going against every policy you’d learned in polite society, you’re throwing your hips back and gyrating out looong sloppy drags of your cunt. 

Straight from the treacly base of your pussy to where Nanami was nuzzling your sensitive clit with his nose. Again. And again and again- the duke’s kiss-bitten lips were burning and he’s still craning his neck for more. Panting, “Make a mess of me, My Lady. S’what I’m hah- here for.”

“N-ngh, it feels so gooood, Kento.”

And you don’t even have any inhibitions about that little slip-up of titles anymore, back arching into a perfect curvy ‘S’ shape at the way he’s salivating all over your pussy.

Rovering the ridged edges of his tongue in a cutesy lil’ heart over your clit, pressing down just enough pressure on it like a button. And it’s exactly what he needs to make you gasp, your hole winking- so that he can easily slide-slide-sliiide a third finger in with a resonating squelch!

“So wet. So divine.” He’s groaning at the sight of you suckling in on him and all his inches. Fitted in so deeply that your orifice is struggling to even squeeze, thighs clamping over his sweaty temples. Feeling inside you. Searching. “I must ask that you ruin me, darlin’. Ride me faster.”

Thighs aching, breaths shortening. His metal glasses thump the scorching front of your cunt and you whine. 

“Faster.”

“P-pleeease!”

It’s like he’s ravaging your pussy with his thrusts, blond brows furrowing in so tight as he’s leaning in even closer. Tuggin’ apart your folds, he’s discovering every sleek, leaking inch of your cunt like he didn’t have enough time. Never would.

And it’s with only spank after spank of his metallic ring that he’s somehow skidding it right down your saccharine walls and directly into your g-spot. “H-here.”

“There.” Even with the kaleidoscope of tears dazzling your vision, you can make out the completely pussydrunken grin that smears across his face. 

Rutting up against the swollen slope of your pussy, he laps up every sodden ounce of slick that escapes you once he hits his slimy target. “With greater fervour now, My Lady.” Your throat clogs up every time he reels his fingerpads down to the curvaceous edges and slams back in. “Harder-”

You grip onto the straight ends of his deltoids, flexing with muscular strength. “I-I’m not sure if that is possible-”

“Do not be gentle with me.” And it almost sounds like a command. Though he’s acting upon it like it’s a complete beg- swerving his palm to sticky clammily onto your left ass cheek and pushing you. “Let yourself hah- go. Give me all of you, I beg.”

You had the most powerful, stoic duke of all the season begging. 

And he needed it- he was toying with the lacy circle of your garter and snapping it down onto your flesh with a flick of his fingers. 

Only to make you wetter.

So wet with sappy, meady slick that he’s gulping down like his favorite liquor- splashing down between his lips and making him more n’ more inebriated by the second. 

Glasses still on. Pumping his hips up into the empty air, all he could do was fuck his fingers into your hotly-glossed walls and pretend he’s doing it all with his aching cock. “Do you think you can handle a fourth, darling?”

Gasping, “P-perhaps-”

“Then…brace yourself…”

You couldn’t brace yourself. You couldn’t even intake a steady breath even if you tried. 

Because while you’re perching your dripping pussy near the line of his straight nosebridge, Nanami’s slipping in the coiled edge of his lengthy tongue. Not his fingers. His tongue. 

In addition to all he was rummaging your melty insides with, he swabs over the texture of his tastebuds down where you were the most delicate and strokes his tongue inside—

“Sh-shit- shit shit shit-” Your mouth juts out into such an adorable pout that makes the man beneath you thrusts his rugged hips upwards. “I-I think I’m…close, Kento.”

“S’that so? Gonna cum?”

So difficult to even breathe when he’s strobing his fingertips down your bulging g-spot, already battered and bruised with the slamming impacts. With the way he swats the side of your thighs stinging with your garter, “Mhm—hck!”

Probin’ every velvety nook and cranny with his touch, Nanami can’t have you on his weeping cock so he’s twisting all his three- now four fingers, and his tongue inside until his wrist aches. His jaw strained. Tastebuds raw, just as much as your pussy was.

“The orchestra is playing, you can be as loud as your heart desires. Say the words, ma’am- I beg of you to please just hah! say the words.”

It makes your vulnerable lips tremble just to formulate the next few scandalous words, never before having been so fucked-out. “Y-yes. Yes, please. Gonna…cum.”

And you swear that the ever-sensible Nanami Kento is gurgling out a wet giggle right between the space of your puffy pussylips, sending white-hot shockwaves down your bowed spine. “I would be-” He wetly gasps out, before slapping his handsome features right back down. 

Addicted. He can’t even move. 

“I would- hah- I would be quite-” And his spectacles dig in deep until the metal surface sizzles against your core, pushing and pushing himself back. His tongue’s going wild, stirring around with the wettest slurps. “I would be quite offended if you didn’t, my love.”

He doesn’t just mutter the words - he’s biting them right ‘round the perky knob of your clit. Teething his glinting canines just hard enough while he’s slipping his tongue back out - right on time, right at the very second to tastefully receive the way you throw your head back and squirt.

Hot. Hard.

It feels like your entire body’s caught on fire and no matter how much you’re slobbering your hips to the front n’ back, it only makes the sensation worse. 

Your eyes water, mouth hanging open stupidly. “Yes- yes yes yes yes- I’m cumming-” Thighs trembling down upon either side of his eardrums at the friction- tight, and he doesn’t even care. “I-I’m cumming.”

“Squirting, My Lady.” Nanami corrects you, gently. Though, it’s a fucking miracle he even had the patience to considering that he’s gasping and panting for air but only pushin’ himself closer to the oodles of cute slick seeping out from you. 

He doesn’t even care. 

Doesn’t even need air- not when he can perk his head just right and push against your thighs. Wide maw unfastened gluttonously ajar to let the thick trickles of sap drip into his mouth after each zap! of bliss. Drowning him. 

Mouth sagging further open, lungs screaming at him. So many bucketloads of syrupy sweet sap that sprays his features until they’re all glittery. “Squirt- oh. You’re- ngh-”

And something’s breaking at the back of his throat when he’s roaming his dexterous, looong tongue between the plumpness of your pussylips, and you’re taking him in so easily.

Overstimulated till you can let off only whines n’ sobs when he’s lazily dabbing his way inside your quivering hole. 

“I’m so ruined, Kento.” Riding and riding. He wanted you to use him and you were- “It feels s-so strange.” The peak of your high was one big wave, and it tingles underneath your skin and makes your eyes roll. 

Never - even during all those long, lonely nights with your hand slipped underneath the covers - did it ever feel like this. Never were you leaking your essence this much, with your sappy juices falling all down the sides of his rosy red lips. “Never f-felt this ngh- way before, Ken.”

And that makes him groan.

Slowly, gingerly - almost like it hurt for him to detach his hungry lips with yours, he’s pulling you off with one hand stuck to your hips. Surging backwards with- no, he can’t surge backwards.

The duke’s planting one more firm kiss onto your cunt, open-mouthed. And then jerking back- and forth. Another kiss. Another repeat until about five times later and he’s finally ready to say goodbye to your sweet, overspilling pussy. 

But he’s not done with his little show- oh, the moment you’re finally spying a good, long look at him, you think you might cum again from just that.

Because Nanami Kento was ruined - blond hair astray, spectacles drooping down his nose, your pussy juices worn all over from the apples of his blushin’ cheeks down to his jawline like a lewd medal.

Waterfalling between the curves of his pectorals, gleaming wherever his pale skin was flushed. He looked as if there was a part of him that was feverish - barely even registering what he’s doing once he’s tugging off his slick-glazed glasses and sucking those pearly beads off of the frame.

Licking his completely wet glasses clean, Nanami tilts his head with a grin like he’s never been more accomplished. “I only live to please you, ma’am.”

“But that’s not fair.” You huff out a stubborn breath, shuffling down his tall body to try and cup the bulging outline between his legs that almost looked painful. “I, too, wish to-”

“Tonight is not the night, I’m hah- afraid.” He’s cleanly cutting off both your plea and your palm. Instead bringing up your shaky hand to kiss the inside of your wrist. Gloves off, his eyes primal and dead set on you. “I could never ask you to get on your knees. Tonight, I only ask that you let me drive you wild, darling. Let me devour you whole.”

And he meant it.

Oh, within sultry seconds Nanami was moving himself off of the tabletop and standing adjacent. Tall. Strong. Not letting you lift a single finger before he loops two hands underneath your thighs and draaaags you to the very edge.

Moistened thighs pasting to his obliques, “Pray, allow me to see to it. To everything.”

And you just wanted to rip the gossamer fabric of your dress off, but Nanami was oh-so-delicate with his hands all over you. Even though he’s fitting himself animalistically between your lewd legs and rutting-

“Why-” His breath catches once your petticoat and stocking are peeled off, both thumbs spreading your swollen pussylips like a lotus. Completely exposed now. “-hello, my love.”

Your mouth parts when you’re realizing that he’s not just talking to you- he’s talking to your cunt. Maw stretched into a smile so utterly lovin’, Nanami keeps that same dopey grin on as he’s leering his face down to spit. 

Again.

“Please, Kento.” You’re bucking your hips up impatiently, still shaky with the aftershocks of your high but you wanted more more more. Needed it. “P-put it in.”

He groans- oh, was it him that taught your sweet mouth to say those words. Corrupting you with every second he’s drawing soppy circles on your wet outer pussy, the duke can only tear down his dress coat and his trousers. Careful with yours but he was ripping his own clothes off. “As you wish, my darling.”

It’s just then that he’s finishing tugging down his sensually tight breeches—and you’re drinking in all of him. And fuck- was it a sight only for your most light-skirted dreams.

Because Nanami Kento was naturally chiseled, to the point where you could count each of his eight washboard abs. Every dip and muscular curve of his hardened front just tensed when the cool air hit him, leading a path of gold along his middle. 

A light happy trail down, down, down to where his red n’ aching cock sat heavily, so hard that his bulging tip looked just about ready to burst. Eight maybe even nine inches long, and so girthy that it made your mouth drop as if you wanted him fitted inside already. 

 You’re watching as his pre-glazed tip only coats an even more glistening layer of sap at your sinful attention. Trickling all the way down to his tightening balls, “You’re staring—”

“C-can you blame me?”

“I suppose not.” And the warmth of his towering proximity hits your body like a furnace, making you squirm restlessly when Nanami’s leaning over the edge of the table to tap-tap-tap his thick cockhead down between your legs. Rock-hard. “Brace yourself, ma’am, mhm?”

Then he’s splitting you apart-

And then he’s arching his sculpted shoulders to cage you underneath him and swearing–“Fuck.”

The first time ever that you’re hearing him spew profanities, just barely slipping the pointed globe of his shaft past the texture of your tight, hot cunt was ruining him. 

“I-I apologize, My Lady.” It was making him gasp, “I apologize, how uncouth of my character. I didn’t mean to-” It was making him urgently snap his head down in panic and watch with primal awe as he ruts- deeper. “F-fuck!”

“Oh my god-” You’re throwing your head back at the pressure, only to be grappled back in by Nanami just so that he can sliiide his lips across yours. Open-mouthed. “H-how are you going in so deep-”

“I cannot help myself.” Grunting, Nanami doesn’t even feel the stinging pain when he’s slamming his capped knee down on the plane of the desk. Angling his slender hips to shove the slimy crown of his tip into your gooey entrance, “It’s simply- it’s just-”

And Nanami Kento, so articulate and calm, doesn’t have the damn words anymore.

Stuttering, falling over his panic to thrust in and in between your trembling legs. He feels the cute rimming circle of your cunt tighten ‘round his fattened girth, and snaps his head down in panic. Spitting. “I-I must have it fit inside, darling. Please, allow me just the tip, at least.”

“Will- ngh! will it even-”

“Of course.” And he’ll apologize for interrupting your sentence later - much, much later. 

But for right now, the only thing that sparks in his fuzzy mind was to raise his toned left forearm up to your drivelling maw. Where you start gnawing wetly down on his skin, he spits- 

“Bite down. Harder.” Hips sloppy, knee hiking up even further to maze his flared cock inside. You feel your elastic hole stretch a wider diameter as he’s slipping yet another solid inch in. “Come now, harder. You can ngh- take it.”

“It’s going in.” And you don’t know whether you wanted to slam your hips forwards or jerk vulnerably at the sheer weight of his body leaning down. 

He breathes, “Yes- yes.” The breeze of his pants fanning your face, making your entire body erupt in flames by the time he’s squeezing past the tender slit carved onto his shaft. Cementing the bulging edge of his cocktip to the roof of your pussy with a raw sluuurp. “I have you. shall not let you fall- bite.”

And it’s all that you can do.

Because Nanami’s fucking you into office table like he wanted you to splinter straight through. 

The half-lidded peripherals of his eyes latching onto where you were speared open like he was watching his personal show, “I hope you know…I’m no- hah- easily satiated man, my love.”

“Wh-what do you- fuck!”

Just on cue, he’s slamming the lines of his hardened hipbones against your inner thighs and making you recoil back near the edge of the table. Dangerously. Barely even giving you a second to pick yourself back up before he reaches over to lace both his rugged palms on top of your clammy scalp. Intertwining. Holding you there. 

‘Just the tip’ he said. And yet here he was, pinning you down just to bully his vein-covered length between your snugly stubborn lips. 

“Do not think to run from me-”

“Could never- ngh- could never-” You’re babbling easily at this point, because the curvy trails that his veins left along your walls were only driving you mad. “Just want more, Kento.”

“…Pardon?”

You blink your teary eyes up at him in a way that makes his throbbing girth fatten up, every ounce of blood in the duke’s head rushing to the ballooned-up knob of his tip. “M-more, I say-”

“More.” He’s echoing out, more to himself. Higher-pitched. Almost tasting the pure need in that one word, and the very repetition makes him half-thrust straight into the goopy depths of your pussy. “More…more.”

Nanami pants out a husky giggle—“More.” Oh, he’s just so in love with the way your cunt was struggling to swallow him whole n’ yet squeezing as you try. He leans back down and spits once more, thoroughly ungentleman-like. “Forgive my haste. You just m-make- me-”

And you swear you hear the tail end of that particular sentence break off into a whine once he’s finally, finally bottoming out. 

So sensitive that all it takes is one, two, three lucious swabs of his drivelling orifice to get you to cum. Throat torn with hoarse moans, head throwing back- “I’m- once more…?”

“F-fuck. You are.” Easing in the girth of his cockhead to be spanked against your cervix and make you see stars. Nanami’s already flooding your pussy with a pour of his scalding hot precum. “What a wonder this enchanting body is for me.”

Again. He has you orgasming all over him again.

He’s feeling just a twinge of disappointment in himself for not making you squirt yet another time- but the night was still young. And your sappy cunt was already so wet, with beads of sparkly juices smearing down his happy trail every time he’s whipping his hips forwards.

Slam after slam. 

Your entire body twitches with startles of euphoria, mewling. “Th-there’s so much- so- ah.”

Ah, how he would love to reach his hands over and wipe away the glistening tears streaming down your pretty face. 

But no, right now he had them locked on top of your head and was using the leverage to pound you stupid. Harder. Spiking the peaks of your high with each thorough probe of his stout, mushroom tip. “I know. I know I know I-”

CRACK!

Oh. 

The desk.

It takes a split-second for both your hazed minds to realize that the ancient mahogany table was sagging on one end, Nanami’s raw natural strength too much for it to handle. And then not even that for him to pull out his cock with a wet plop! 

Manhandling you down onto the hardwood floors like a doll, on all fours. It’s such a sinfully new angle to have him looming behind you, tense core plastered against your back once his lengthy cock siiiinks in-

Orgasm still dwindling, entire body shaking. “Fuck- nghhh- fuck, Kento–!”

“You are doing so well, darling.” One hand glues onto the side of your left ass cheek and tugs you back down with his grip. The other carefully rovers just underneath your tummy, “M-makes it so easy to wish to hah- give away to my inclinations.”

A primal sob wrenches from your throat when you’re feeling the slimy drag of his globular, pointed tip. Drawin’ out a zig-zag down and down where you were most delicate, until he reaches the target of your cervix, spank! “Th-then proceed- I beg of you.”

You didn’t know what those guttural words would mean. You didn’t even know if you would make it out alive- but right now you’re starting to doubt it once Nanami gasps.

Once he’s slamming one of his flattened feets by the side of your thigh, deeper. The raw, sensual feeling so much that he can’t control himself. Rutting and rutting away as if he’s gone feral—

“Is this to- to your liking then, ma’am?” The duke’s gurgling out through a translucent froth of spittle, splat-splattering right down the middle of your arched spine. “H-how about now?”

He shutters his eyes furiously and rams the remaining few inches of his cock. Bottomed out and still trying to probe even deeper inside, so all he can do is plant his sock-covered foot over the top of your head and press. Bending. “N-now?”

“I adore it—” You’re keenly whining, “Love it- ngh- please.”

Proudly, Nanami dares to snicker as his left thumb brushes down the plump, roaming tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Pushin’ down just on the curvy tip of where you could feel his split-ended cockhead thrashing your poor insides. “And I should love to hah! make this gorgeous cunt mine- make you mine.”

And he was a man of action.

It was high time you realized that, because within exactly three repeated swats of his plummy, rose-colored shaft- he’s discovering your g-spot. He’s kissing that bullseye with a looong, soppy glide.

“Though…that is what I am doing, that should be no hngh- sham.” 

Feeling all the crimson rush to your head, he presses down just as his aching hot cock presses in. “It’s- it’s just- fuck.”

Faster. Harder. So sloppy that the planks of the floorboards start to sing out in singing creaks of protest, soiling with a trickle of syrupy precum and slick being poured from straight between your legs. Constantly. 

Rubbing himself swollen n’ redly raw on the cavern of your tight pussy, Nanami doesn’t even want to blink to break his staring contest with your bulging pussylips. 

Milking himself. 

The sweetest smooch for your sweetest spot, Nanami coos as you shake- struggling to keep your weakened arms straight as you hold yourself up in this lecherous position. “Come now.” Your overstimulated vision spots with pure white as he darts the hand at your stomach to loop around your throat like a necklace - a headlock. Springing you upright—“I have you, My Lady.”

Spittle waterfalls in embarrassing bucketloads from your mouth and stains the front of his beefy forearm, squeezing your airway. Dilated pupils swirlin’ stupidly every time his strawberry divot circles the entrance to your womb. Squealing, “Y-you…ngh!…mm–”

“Hmmm—?”

“You- hck! please, Ken-”

His warm, ravaging cock was so big that the constant stretch of your walls finally had you stupid. Your brain nothing but a pulp of melted mush every time he snaps his clammy hips to your ass with a stinging pap! of skin-on-skin.

 “Me…I’m-” And it’s like each time the puffy veins decorating each side of his overworked shaft gets squeezed, Nanami finds himself seeing stars. Sweaty, bulging biceps tightening on your throat even harder- you scream. “I have you, My Lady- I’m yours.”

Your hole gaping, thighs wet. Just taking everything he’s giving as he finally cums—and you do, too.

Though, you’re not registering it at first. 

Not when that leaky hole at the very end of his cherry-red shaft pipes out a creamy icing of cum, layering thickly across every inch and cranny of your rummaged insides. Pump after pump- each one has your pathetic pussy overspilling with so many knotted wads of seed, and yet he always had so much more more more-

“O-oh.” He’s grunting out, feeling a particularly big splash of sap at the base of his cock- and it’s only then that you’re both realizing that you’d just squirted. All over again.

It’s traveling down like a flood between your thighs, painting a glistening ring on the tawny curls at his hilt. Soaking him utterly n’ completely that Nanami finds each thrust to let off the most primal sluuuurp! 

“You- you really are the most beautiful hck! lady that has graced this Earth, my love.” Your gaze, your smile, that soul. It was your soul he found most beautiful, the instant he laid his eyes upon you. 

He simply knew.

“Y-yet, I’m a chambermaid-”

“I care not.”

“You’re just-” It’s a damn wonder that you even could still speak by now, because every rubbin’ massage of his fat cock only left your mind blank. “-saying- mmm- saying that, Kento.”

“I fear you are mistaken.”

His veins indent your walls with lightning bolts, his cum cobwebbed across your spongy cervix and was splashing after each jackhammer. 

Nanami drills into you low and slow now just to help your dripping wet cunt suck him dry. Loving the cute, velvety way you were clamping around his rovering shaft tiredly, “Only allow me to prove my ngh- heart.”

You’re so fucked-out that you’re barely even flinching when he’s finally freeing you of his sinful headlock. Taking mere nanoseconds to pluck that infamous House of Nanami signet ring off of his finger- and pushing it straight down the ring finger on your left.

An engagement. A promise. 

“I shall get you another ring- one that is proper, one you deserve, when- if you shall have me, My Lady.” The smoky tone of Nanami Kento’s bass tickles the side of your stinging throat, almost a purr. “I swear it upon my word-” He guides that very same boneless hand of yours to cup his plush, thumping left pectoral. “-and my heart, to forever keep you the most beautiful lady upon this Earth. You shall never want, for I pledge to you my body, my soul for your happiness.”

You whimper, thighs still shaking with your high. Tears slipping down your face that he kisses away, “I-if you’ll have me, Your Grace.”

“Kento.”

“Kento.”

And by the time the last of his wadded ounces of cum had finished spraying out, Nanami pulls his hips back with a bellowing squelch that makes your body heat flare. Such a creamy mess of ivory glossing your pussylips that he’s taking one glimpse at and gasping-

You mewl, “K-Ken, what are you-”

“It seems…” He drawls, manhandling you spread-out onto your back with his sculptured hands. Snaking his face down to mouth a hot puff over your swollen folds that stick together. Tasting. Drooling like he’d just happened across his favorite dessert. “-that the ball is far from finished, my wife.”

.

.

.

Dearest gentle reader,

It seems we have a rather special (and scandalously romantic!) special announcement. Yes, whilst your lips were whispering at her majesty the Queen’s Royal Diamond Ball the previous night, those of his grace, Duke Nanami Kento, have certainly been up to worse. 

The ton reached new heights of hysteria over Duke Nanami’s attendance of the ball with his lovely chambermaid acquaintance. This author personally confirms that her highness’s royal orchestra was barely audible over the sound of shattering hearts!

However, if this was where the story ended, dear readers, we would still possess our wits. Not only had her highness titled this unnamed belle of the ball as the Diamond of the season; aforementioned diamond was not in audience of her naming!

Where was she, you might ask? Why, nowhere else but bedding a certain handsome duke—or so palace patrol whisper amongst the halls. 

An impatient dalliance or stirring the pot? You tell me, dear reader, though it certainly doesn’t help that said new diamond was spotted near the end of the evening with both a real diamond and the Nanami signet ring upon one’s betrothal finger!

 It’s said that the House of Nanami - and particularly a once-stoic Duke Nanami Kento - has been exceptionally lively in preparation for the blessed union and his new bride.

On the other hand, this author shall have to purchase new robes for a summer wedding. 

Yours Truly, 

Lady Whistledown.

A/N. Tell me why it was SAUR difficult to write in regency speak I feel like I don’t even know this language anymore pls-