#jujutsujournal

The after party is as wild as you’d imagined it would be. The ritziness and glam of the actual fashion show can hardly be found here. It’s all thumping loud music, raunchy dancing and paraphernalia scattered across various surfaces. 

Looking for sweaty bodies bumping and grinding in off the runway Dior? You’ll find it here. 

Want to catch someone snorting a line in vintage Chanel? Just turn your head in any direction, really. 

Can you see a pair of this season’s YSL heels peeking out from around the corner where someone is on their knees giving the sloppiest blowjob? Absolutely.

And it’s your job to make sure that what’s happening here never sees the light of day.

You love scandal, because it gives you a job, pays your bills and keeps your lights on and food in your fridge. As long as some celebrity is getting into shit they’re not supposed to, you’ll always have a job. But outside of work, you loathe scandal, avoid it at all costs because the biggest cost would be your career. Sure, you’ve joined in on the fun, partook in scandalous behavior from time to time, but you’re always careful. There are never any traces, never any receipts, never any damning evidence that could lead back to you.

No one will ever know that you spent a weekend in Bali with famous pop musician Satoru Gojo while his wife waited patiently for him to return from “filming” a new music video.

They will also never know about your brief tryst with his best friend, Suguru Geto in Nara, Seoul and Bora Bora. Not even Satoru.

And your romantic holiday trip with award winning actress Yuki Tsukumo? As far as everyone else knows, it never happened.

See, you were that damn good at your job. That’s why you were the head of your PR team, after all. It’s why you knew exactly where to direct your videographer to point their camera. You spot the rolled dollar bills and white lines before they can react, finger pushing the camera sideways to focus on something else.

Lo and behold, it points to a group of models standing casually off to the side of the party as they mingle with guests. You recognize one face among the crowd, those deep purple bags beneath his eyes highlighted by the flashing neon lights.

It’s Choso, a model, with his hair up in space buns, a part of his styling. He’s dressed to the nines in the most stylish streetwear of the season, his signature Prada combat boots on. 

You’ve known Choso for quite some time, often running into each other at these afterparties. Years ago, in the early hours of the morning, you’d clumsily attempted a drunk hookup. Every kiss, every touch, every attempt to work each other up to something more amounted to nothing. It ended with you both tangled in each other’s arms, falling apart with laughter. And so, you’d decided you were better off as friends, and had become quite close since. It worked better for you both that way. You just weren’t into each other like that.

But Choso has been a good friend to you. You often find yourself hanging out together after the chaos of the fashion show has died down and a new session of mayhem has begun for the afterparty. You haven’t seen him in months, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference because Choso spots you easily behind the camera and waves you over to his group of friends.

“Haven’t seen you since Paris,” he calls out to you as you approach. He slings an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know! I’ve missed you!” You yell back. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, not too bad at all. Dating someone now!”

You lean back in his hold, brows rising to your hairline. “You? In a relationship?” 

You’re shocked. You’ve seen Choso go through different women, but never heard him refer to whoever he was seeing as dating. He nods, just as one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on approaches you two. Her lips quirk into a pretty smile and you can tell right away that she’s not a model. The smile is far too genuine, but that’s not to say she couldn’t be one if she wanted. She’s stunning, with smooth caramel brown skin and braids that fall down her back, and big brown eyes that you can already see Choso getting lost in as he pulls away from you to wrap his arms around her waist. He peers down at her, the awe apparent in his gaze. Like he just can’t believe he’s got her.

“Hey, babe,” he mutters just before his lips meet hers in a hungry kiss.

Oh, he’s in love, love.

Choso introduces you to his babe, Kamila and she’s as sweet as she looks. But you don’t get to talk to her much, because Choso is not willing to spend any time he’s not obligated to away from his love. You don’t blame him. She’s breathtaking. You can’t help but smile, watching as Choso and his girlfriend completely forget they’re at this party together, surrounded by people. 

Which is fine, because it’s about time to wrap it up yourself so that you and your crew can also take time to enjoy the rest of the festivities.

Turning to your associate, you signal for them to hand you their camera. They quickly switch it off before placing it in your hands. “Go party,” you tell them, dismissing them for the night. “Nothing crazy,” you add. “And if it gets crazy, make sure there’s nothing that can be traced back to the company. And if something happens that can be traced back to the company, call me.”

They know the rules. They’re the same ones you follow and the same ones the company practically beat into your skull when you were first brought on. So far, they’ve worked for you. No one has been able to outsmart any of you. Your team is solid.

“Got it boss,” your cameraman exclaims. Then they’re off to get into whatever trouble the night has in store for them.

And while you’re pondering what trouble you can get into, it seems to find you first.

“Boss, huh?” A sweet voice questions behind you. You spin around to see Choso and his girlfriend are now nowhere in sight. Instead, you’re face to face with two of the most alluring women you’ve ever laid eyes on. They’re dressed in skin tight dresses that leave little to the imagination, their long legs exposed and damn they look good. You recognize them from the show and from the model roster.

The beautiful slender one with the cute little beauty mark beneath one of her tired eyes – Shoko Ieiri. She’s got a bit of an intimidating aura and a smile that has your heart pounding rapidly behind your ribcage. She’s a bit scary. And admittedly, you find it sexy. 

You’ve never spoken to Shoko. The models are usually too busy working and racing around backstage to have much time to mingle. By the time the show’s over, they’re either back in their rooms or out at whatever party they can get into. But have also never heard anything negative about Shoko from any contacts in the industry, which speaks volumes to you. You hear everything. It’s easy for anyone to get their hands on anything if they try hard enough.

When there’s nothing to find, it means they’re good at keeping their dirt swept under the rug. Those are the types of people you get along best with.

Then, there’s the slightly shorter one, with a rough scar that runs from one side of her face to the other in contrast to her soft features – Utahime Iori. She’s as striking as Shoko – curvy and looks soft in all the right places. 

Again, nothing crazy about Utahime. You’ve heard she’s quite the hothead, which would be quite interesting if it were true. She has a less intimidating air about her. Her big brown eyes make her seem sweeter than the woman standing beside her. It makes her all the more intriguing to you.

Regardless, they both have their pretty gazes on you and for a split second, you feel the roles reverse. In this world, you’re at the top of the food chain. Everyone else is the prey. Because you could spin any story, take any insult slung your way and crush your target. Because no one had anything on you. But for some reason, as these two women stare you down, Utahime with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and Shoko puckering her lips around the butt of a cigarette, you feel like they could destroy you.

And if there’s one thing you love, it’s a woman who feels dangerous.

So when Shoko asks if you’d like to join her and Utahime for some drinks, you really can’t say no. And you don’t want to.

- - - - - - - - -

“What’d you think of the show?” Utahime asks eagerly. You’re all seated on one of the expensive velvet sofas on the second floor of this club. Shoko has made herself comfortable, leaning back against the arm of the chair. And you’ve made yourself even more comfortable, seated between her long legs and leaning against Shoko’s chest while Utahime sits next to you, idly playing with your fingers.

You take a slow sip of your drink. It’ll probably be your last for the night. From the moment you laid eyes on these two, you knew what direction you wanted the night to go. You want to be sober enough to enjoy it.

Utahime peers up expectantly at you with those big brown eyes of hers, long lashes curling cutely and it makes your cheeks heat. The alcohol is not helping with how easily your body is responding.

“It was really good,” you finally answer. Utahime beams, a little smile beginning to grow on her lips.

“Really?” She asks, and you nod. “We did good?”

Behind you, you feel the vibration of Shoko’s chuckle rumble against your back. And as you stare down into Utahime’s eyes, it’s clear why.

Okay. This one likes praise, you note mentally. You nod again. “So good.” And you’re unable to stop the smile forming on your lips when Utahime’s grin widens. She looks over to Shoko, who lazily takes a drag of another cigarette, blowing her smoke out of the side of her mouth to avoid suffocating you. Her long fingers trail absentmindedly up and down your arm as she listens to you and Utahime continue on about the show.

You’ve noticed that Shoko isn’t very talkative. She’s more observant than anything and while that would usually bother you, there’s something about Shoko that puts you at ease. Like you can put your life in her hands and can be confident you would be alright. Maybe it’s because everything around you is always so busy, always so loud. Her silence feels grounding amongst the chaos. 

But you also find her silence a little funny since she and Utahime seem to be so close. Utahime seems more the party type than Shoko does. She’s outgoing and friendly, warm and inviting. It’s such a stark contrast to Shoko, and yet they’re always with each other. Even earlier in the night, if Shoko went to the bar, Utahime was right behind her, telling you they’d be right back before chasing after her. If Utahime wanted to dance, Shoko was next to her. You suppose opposites do attract.

You suspect they’re more than just colleagues or friends and you file that tidbit away in your mind. If the night is headed where you want it to go, where you suspect it’s going to go, you need to collect any pertinent information you can beforehand. 

Just in case.

“Ugh,” Shoko groans, leaning forward suddenly to smash her half finished cigarette into the ashtray on the side table next to her. “All this noise is making my head hurt.”

Utahime nods in agreement. “It has been a long day…” She sits straighter, grasping your hand tightly she asks, “Should we get going?”

Damn, you think. You’re a little disappointed to think the night is ending here. “Are you two heading home?” You’re sure the frown on your face is clear, even in the darkness of the venue. You don’t want them to go yet.

Shoko snorts, shaking her head. She leans back against the chair, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you back onto her. “No,” she breathes, and she’s so close to your ear, you can feel her breath ghost along your skin, can smell the faint mixture of nicotine and spearmint. “We don’t live anywhere near here,” she explains, fingers gliding along your skin again. “Hime and I got a reservation at one of those onsen hotels up the street.”

“It’s really nice from the pictures I saw online,” Utahime adds, a cheerful lilt to her tone when she speaks. “Can’t wait to get there.”

You can feel the shift in the atmosphere when those words leave her lips. The air is thick, heavy. You’re familiar with this feeling. You know it all too well, and your heart races in your chest. Behind you, you feel Shoko’s body tense up briefly before she relaxes.

Then Utahime is crawling along your form, moving closer to you, closer and closer, and you think she’s going to try and kiss you. And damn it, you’d let her…if it was you she was aiming for. Instead, you watch, eyes blown wide with curiosity and honestly, desire as Utahime presses her plush lips to Shoko’s. Normally, you’d be elated to know your hunch was correct, that they were in fact more than friends, but you can’t seem to care when you see their lips connect. Their kiss is sweet at first, just a few light pecks, quiet sighs between them. Until Utahime grins into the kiss, pulling back slightly to giggle at the way Shoko’s brows knit together. Shoko frowns, bringing a hand up to grip Utahime’s long chocolate tresses.

“Don’t tease me, Hime,” she breathes through gritted teeth. Then she’s pulling Utahime’s face to hers, smashing their lips together for a messy, passionate kiss. And all you can do is watch as their tongues slip into each other’s mouths, breaths heavy as they quietly moan into each kiss. It’s so sexy, the way Utahime whimpers. How Shoko nips at Utahime’s already swollen lips. How Shoko pulls you tighter against her, pressing your ass against her groin.

You’re not sure if it’s the drinks you’ve had with these girls, the cigarettes or the scent of their perfumes that has your head swimming. Hell, maybe it’s a mixture of it all, but you’re so turned on watching these beautiful women kissing in front of you. All of their lust being poured into each slot of their lips, every groan and whimper between them, it’s all so arousing. You squeeze your thighs together, prompting a soft chuckle from the woman behind you. Shoko breaks away from the kiss, releasing her hold on Utahime’s hair who pouts cutely, sitting back on her knees.

“Don’t look so sad, Hime,” Shoko coos. She turns her attention back to you. “Just seemed like someone wanted to join us.”

And you do. You want to join them real fucking bad.

But when Shoko leans forward, just trying to press a kiss to your neck, your brain suddenly crawls out of the fog. You’re out in the open, in a compromising position with two models, at that. So you move, a hand flying up to push Shoko back a little.

Her brows furrow, head tilting in confusion and she releases her hold on you. “Oh– Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…I just thought–”

“No you’re right,” you reassure them. Your eyes dart around the venue, and while everyone is likely drugged up or too drunk out of their minds to notice three girls feeling each other up in the club, you can never be too careful. “Just…not here. Let’s go back to your hotel.”

Shoko looks at Utahime, who stares at you two with eager eyes and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. “Okay! Let’s go!”

- - - - - - - - -

Shoko checks you all into the hotel, and the room is as beautiful as you’d imagine it would be. There’s a main bedroom with a fluffy king bed ready to be slept in…or not. Off to the side of the room is a small dining area, and through large glass doors is the onsen bath, the water already run by the hotel staff for you. It screams luxury. You can see the steam curling from the water and god, if you couldn’t use a bath to wash away the day.

You set your bag and camera down on the dining table. Stretching your arms over your head, you take in the room, moving across the space. “This hotel is fucking incredible,” you gasp. “I can’t believe your agency spoils you guys like this.”

Shoko laughs, kicking her heels off and setting them in the little armoire by the entrance. “Right? I was surprised myself. Make yourself at home,” she tells you from the other side of the room.

She didn’t have to tell you twice. You couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed and – 

“What’s this for?”

You peek over your shoulder, eyes landing on Utahime fumbling around with the camera and panic sets in. You cannot lose that footage. “Please don’t touch that!” It comes out more forcefully than you intended and Utahime sets the camera down quickly, holding her hands up defensively. 

“Sorry!”

You rush toward her, only to be stopped in your tracks by Shoko, who places her hands on your shoulders. “Hey, relax. She was just looking.” She fixes you with a small smile, running her hands soothingly along your arms. And it does calm you, the earlier fear you felt melting away. “Be glad you caught her before she dropped it.” Shoko shakes her head, releasing your shoulders before she turns, moving towards the other woman. Utahime stands still, watching and waiting as Shoko slips behind her easily. Shoko’s fingers pinch the zipper of Utahime’s dress and drag it along the fabric until her dress slowly loosens around her chest and your gaze falls to the movement. “She can be careless sometimes,” Shoko speaks softly. Her fingers glide along Utahime’s collarbone, dragging down to the swell of her breasts. “Don’t mind her.” 

Shoko spins around, and Utahime follows, gently pushing Shoko’s hair aside. She presses a soft kiss to the back of Shoko’s neck and you watch as she trails kisses along the side of Shoko’s neck, pulling quiet sighs from the taller woman as she pulls the zipper until the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her bare slim form. Shoko turns back around and captures Utahime’s lips with hers, only breaking away to whisper, “Be more careful, okay?” before she’s back on her.

And all you can do is watch, the nerves you felt earlier about the camera now melted away. Beneath the soft lighting of the hotel room, they look like ethereal beings. Too innocent to be partaking in such salacious behavior. Arousal pools in your core as the vision of the two model’s tongues tangling sends you spiraling. Have you ever been so turned on, so eager to touch someone, to feel their body on yours? Even your nights spent with the most famous celebrities never had you so tempted to slip your hands into your panties.

It’s the way Shoko holds onto Utahime’s form against her own. How she reaches a hand up to pull down the loosened fabric against Utahime’s chest. How Utahime becomes exposed, her supple breasts falling gently. Utahime’s soft whimpers when the chill air ghosts along her pretty pink nipples, the buds puckering when Shoko rolls them gently between her fingers.

Shoko sighs, pulling away reluctantly. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers, hands kneading Utahime’s breasts. “So beautiful. My perfect girl.”

You can see the way Utahime’s eyes light up from across the room, a shy smile lifting the corners of her lips. “No, you,” she teases and Shoko chuckles.

Her heated gaze finds yours from across the room, how you’re watching them intently with desire clear in your eyes. Utahime follows her line of sight, and it’s clear to her what Shoko wants. She raises her hand, inviting you over to join. And you don’t hesitate. Like magnets drawn to each other, your legs carry you to them with ease.

Both women welcome you, the anticipation clear. They want this just as badly as you do, and for a moment, you wonder if their panties are just as soaked as yours. They’ve been kissing each other, touching each other, getting to taste and enjoy each other while you’ve gotten the pleasure of watching from the sidelines. Now you’re about to partake in these pleasures with them. You’re more excited than you care to admit.

Utahime takes your hand, guiding you closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Are you okay with this?” She asks, eyes locked on your parted lips and you nod your consent.

“Yes, I want this.”

Utahime’s bright eyes travel to Shoko, who watches you both with hardly concealed interest. 

“This stays here, though. Right?” 

You want to be sure before moving forward. Not that you were concerned, but better to have heard it with your own ears.

”Of course,” Shoko confirms. She bites down on her lip before looping an arm around your waist. Now she has both you and Utahime in her hold. “Now kiss her.”

The command has your core aching. You’ve wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like, tasted like, to kiss them. Didn’t matter who first or if it was both at the same time. You just wanted to feel their lips on yours.

And you do, when Shoko dips her head down to bury her face in your neck just as Utahime presses her mouth on yours. The moment their mouths connect with your skin, your body ignites with heat. Utahime is an amazing kisser. She has pretty, plush and soft lips that easily mold against yours. And she makes cute little noises when your tongues touch.

Shoko on the other hand, is a bit rougher, hungrier with her kisses. When she cups your cheek and breaks your kiss with Utahime by turning your head, she’s quick to nip at your lips. Her tongue slips into your mouth the second you let out a moan. While you and Shoko are heavily making out, Utahime takes this time to grab your hands, laying them against her large breasts.

“Touch me,” she sighs, squeezing your hands beneath hers and moaning at the applied pressure. 

You oblige, hands running lightly over the hardened buds and you revel in the way Shoko moans a quiet “I love the way you play with her tits…” into your mouth. “I wanna see you play with her pussy later.” You whimper into the kiss, her confession making your cheeks heat. You’ll admit, this is your first threesome. It’s hard to focus, your mind is so foggy with the arousal building in your core. It’s all too much – too much movement, too much touching, too much sound and way too much going on with your own body.

Your lips tingle, almost numb from how hard and greedily Shoko kisses you. Your skin vibrates with the way Utahime is practically helping you to play with her breasts. And your panties are probably dripping with arousal right now. You are desperate to cum.

“We should get into the bath,” Utahime groans when you cup her breasts. She leans forward, nudging Shoko away from your lips. Shoko gives her hardly any space at all, taking one side of your mouth while Utahime takes the other. Then it’s all three of your tongues tangling together in this sloppy, wet kiss. 

Though you’re all reluctant to break away, Shoko moves first, stepping back enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off of you, forcing Utahime back as well. You’re all breathing heavily, flushed and aroused beyond measure, but you still nod. “Yeah, let's get in bath…” 

++++++++++

“Have you been with a woman before?” Shoko asks, lacing her fingers between yours as she guides you into her lap. You straddle her, though you don’t sit fully on her lap yet.

You’ve all slipped into the warmth of the deep hotel bathtub. Shoko sits half submerged on the bathtub’s built-in bench with her back against the tub’s wall. If your body was burning up before, it’s on fire now, your pulse racing after spending the last few minutes lathering each other’s bodies and kissing until your lips hurt.

“I have.”

Shoko’s brows rise, almost as if she’s surprised by the confirmation. “Two women?”

You shake your head. Nevertheless, Shoko grins as she asks, “Well? The one you’ve been with…How was it?” She pulls you closer, until your lips are hovering barely over hers, breaths mingling. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

The question hangs heavy between you two. It’s not as though answering this question would implicate you in any way, or give them any clues as to who the last woman you slept with was. So you answer honestly, just barely above a whisper. “Yeah, it was pretty good.”

Utahime giggles, gliding through the water to close the distance between you all. “She’s so cute, Shoko.” 

Shoko cups your face, eyes cast down to your lips. “She is, isn’t she?” She runs her thumb along your lip teasingly before she declares, “I can give you something better than pretty good.” 

“Yeah?” You challenge her.

“Yeah, she can,” Utahime confirms. “We can.” She closes the gap between you all, placing her hands on your waist from behind. You feel her wet breasts press against your back and your eyes flutter closed. Utahime is curvy in all the right places. You are no better than a man, more than turned on by the feeling of her pressed against you. Your absolute favorite part about her is her pretty, large breasts. You can’t wait to have her nipples in your mouth.

Utahime places light kisses along your skin, along your neck, moving so that she’s on her knees beside you and Shoko. She adjusts her height smoothly so that she sits a little taller, enough so that she can cup the back of your head and pull you to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple quickly, eagerly and she gasps, back arching and pushing her breast further into the cavern of your mouth. You hum against her, tongue rolling the pert bud. She tastes of the strawberry body wash you just rinsed off of her. You’re so distracted, moving back and forth between Utahime’s breasts that you don’t notice Shoko slipping a hand between the other woman’s thighs beneath the water. Not until Utahime cries out, hands coming up to find purchase on your shoulders. 

And Shoko, the bitch that she is, places her other hand on your thigh and guides you to sit down, mouth falling open with a soft moan when your hips connect under the bath water. Shoko rolls hips, brushing her core with yours and grinning as she watches your mouth fall agape against Utahime’s breast. She does it again, smiling wide when a small whimper falls from your lips. Then she keeps doing it, keeps grinding herself against you until your thighs are trembling, and you’re nothing but a puddle clinging to Utahime’s waist.

And Utahime, she’s not any better off. Shoko’s fingers are slowly working her towards her release. She’s already been pent up, teased and turned on since you’d all gotten together at the nightclub. Now, as Shoko scissors her fingers inside her sex, presses her palm to her clit, Utahime only inches closer to the edge. 

The smaller woman pushes you from her chest, her hands cupping your face so she can capture your lips with hers. And you’re so overstimulated, your mind reeling while the water sloshes with every thrust of Shoko’s hips. Shoko gently cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, moaning as she feels your clits brush against each other repeatedly. She sighs sweetly watching as you ride her, all while Utahime rides her hand while her lips slot against yours.

“You’re so soft,” Utahime breathes, tongue pushing past your lips to press against your own wet muscle. One hand finds the back of Utahime’s head, fingers tangling in her soft tresses and you hear Shoko moan beneath you, her hips slamming into yours. Your tongue tangles messily with Utahime’s, all saliva and groans as Shoko moves you against her. Water splashes over the sides of the tub. You can’t be bothered to care about the mess you’re all making. Not when this feels so good, not when Utahime kisses you like this, not while Shoko makes her sob into your mouth, not when you can feel the delicious tension beginning to build in your core. 

“Fuck, ah – you’re both so sexy…” Shoko groans. “Love watching you kiss each other. So fucking sexy…Play with my tits while I fuck her, Hime.”

Without breaking the kiss, Utahime grasps one of Shoko’s breasts, tweaking her nipple and grinning against your mouth when Shoko gasps loudly. Her thrusts come faster, head falling back as she moans.

“Ahh…Shoko…you make such pretty sounds, baby.” Utahime coos and you whimper, eyes rolling back when your cunt slides against Shoko’s deliciously. “You do, too,” Utahime tells you, kissing you one last time before breaking away to lean down and kiss Shoko now.

All the while, Shoko never stops her movements. It’s like she’s an expert with her hands because she never loses hold of your hip, guiding you against her while she fucks her fingers into Utahime with her other hand. The room is full of the lewd sounds of you three whimpering, moaning, and whining at the shared intimacy. If there’s anyone in the rooms next to you, they may complain, but you’re not worried about that. You’re more concerned with the way Utahime’s voice rises several octaves, her cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna cum?” Shoko groans. “C’mere. C’mere, baby,” Shoko stops moving, gently pulling her fingers from Utahime’s pussy. She’s so gentle with the other woman as she adjusts herself so that she’s able to lean her head back enough for Utahime to stand between you and her, legs spread as she settles her knees on the edge of the tub, positioning her core over Shoko’s face. You’ve got a nice view of Utahime’s pretty round ass, and an even better view of Shoko pressing a passionate kiss to Utahime’s cunt, tongue running through her folds, lips wrapping around Utahime’s swollen bud.

Utahime gasps, moaning breathlessly when Shoko sucks her clit hard, then teases it with the tip of her tongue. Your hands play idly with Shoko’s nipples, eyes locked on the way Shoko devours Utahime, like she’s never tasted something sweeter in her life. It’s such an arousing vision. Utahime’s thighs begin to tremble and you’re grateful for the platform of the bath, where Utahime falls forward onto her hands. She’s on all fours, riding Shoko’s face. 

“Shokoooo, ooh–,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “Gonna fucking cum, babe,” she warns, and Shoko’s lips wrap around her clit again, humming loudly as she gives Utahime’s ass a harsh smack. This has Utahime’s body spasming, a high pitched cry leaving her as she reaches her peak. And as you watch Shoko drive Utahime over the edge with just her tongue, you’re unsure if it’s the water from the bath or Utahime’s release that’s running down Shoko’s face, absolutely soaking the taller woman’s chin.

“Fuck,” you moan quietly, eyes locked on the sexy sight before you. Your clit throbs beneath the surface. Maybe Shoko feels it, because she picks her movements back up after returning both hands to your hips. Your cunt slips and slides against Shoko’s again and this time, after watching Utahime fall apart on Shoko’s tongue, you’re even more aroused and eager to reach your own release. It’s not too far off, only getting closer as you watch Utahime shudder while Shoko continues making out with her pussy.

When it’s clear Utahime is spent, she climbs off of Shoko and slips back into the water, gliding through the liquid to position herself behind you where she begins kissing along your neck again. Her hands finds your breasts and she kneads them gently from behind, the motion such a contrast to the way Shoko is roughly fucking you again.

And once more, you’re all whimpering, hands roaming each other’s bodies. Grabbing soft flesh and squeezing anywhere you can that pulls sweet noises. You’re riding Shoko hard, desperately trying to cum. Each stroke of your clit against hers has you reeling, the sweet sensation pushing you closer and closer to your climax.

“I’m jealous,” Utahime pouts cutely. “Shoko gets to fuck you so good. I wanna fuck you, too.” 

You can’t do anything but whimper pathetically at the aspect of your legs crossed with Utahime’s. Shoko’s moans follow. “I wanna see you fuck her, baby.” She thrusts her hips up, a loud moan rushing past your lips. “You wanna fuck Hime, too? She eats pussy so good.”

“God, yes!” You cry, eyes closed as you focus on your impending climax.

“We have plenty of time tonight,” Utahime assures you. “Maybe we can even do this another time.”

“Oh, I’d love that. Get to see this pretty pussy again,” Shoko grunts, eyes locked on the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. “God, even in the water, your pussy is so fucking wet.”

Utahime groans, pouting further. “Stopppp, Shoko. I already said I’m–”

“Gonna cum,” Shoko whines. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”

Shoko leans forward suddenly, grasping you by the back of your neck and pulling you close so she can crash her lips into yours. The mixture of Shoko's taste and the tang of Utahime’s cum on Shoko’s tongue has your eyes rolling back, and you’re toppling over. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, the tension and build up throughout the night finally snapping the band that had been coiling in your core for the last several hours.

Your arms wrap around Shoko’s shoulders as you keen into each other's mouths, riding out your highs.

“Oh wow…” Utahime rubs small circles on your back. “That was…really hot.”

You’re catching your breath, Shoko still holding onto your hips tightly. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, a sweaty mess that somehow looks even more beautiful this way.

“We’re gonna need another bath,” she chuckles.

The night carries on with much of the same taking place. After the bath (and second bath), the three of you fall into bed, quickly finding yourselves tangled in the sheets.

++++++++++

The next morning, you’re awakened by the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the hotel table. Your head is pounding and you’re not sure if it’s the couple glasses of wine you had, or the dehydration from the many orgasms both women pulled from you last night. Probably a mixture of both.

Speaking of Shoko and Utahime, you stretch carefully in bed, remembering you all fell asleep with you sandwiched between them. But you’re left confused when you don’t feel a warm body on either side of you. You open your eyes slowly, wincing when the early morning rays of sun feel like a punch to the forehead. But even the aching in your skull isn’t enough for you to ignore that you appear to be alone in a hotel room that is not yours.

You crawl out of bed, peering around the room. “Hello?” You call out, and it feels like your voice is echoing, bouncing off the walls of this quiet room. You check the bathroom and find it’s empty. You check the closet and don’t see any evidence that clothes were inside last night. “Maybe they just had to leave,” you murmur to yourself. Because it helps soothe the nagging feeling you have sitting in the pit of your stomach at the moment.

Shrugging off the feeling, you go about your morning as you normally would. You shower, brush your teeth, dress in the clothes you’d come over in last night and plan on heading back home to report back to work.

Your phone is still buzzing when you’re about ready to head out. You finally pick it up, unlocking the device and seeing a plethora of missed calls as well as several text messages from some of your team members and associates.

Associate 1: Where are you?

Associate 1: 911!! Please pick up!

You roll your eyes, wondering what trouble they’d gotten into last night. What mess will you have to clean up this morning?

Associate 3: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE

Director: You need to call me.

Director: NOW.

Slight panic begins to set in, and you continue scrolling through your messages. There’s one from an unknown number, sent in the early hours of the morning. You open the message, eyes practically bulging out of your head when you see the contents.

Unknown: No hard feelings, okay? We really needed the exposure so we could get booked for more shows. Thanks for last night! - H

Another text comes through, and you think you might be fucking sick when you read it. It’s a link to a news article for…Jujutsu Journal? Stupid ass name, but it’s a gossip blog so what did you expect? 

The page has screenshots of a very familiar scene. You and the models in the bath. You and Utahime on the bed with your heads thrown back in ecstasy. A blurred pic, censoring what may be the dirtiest of all – you bent over the bed on all fours, with your face buried between Utahime’s legs while Shoko (and her lilac colored strap) destroy you from behind. 

Where the absolute hell would they get these?!

The headline reads:

TAKING RELATING TO THE PUBLIC TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! Head Public Relations manager for one of Japan’s top fashion magazines is in quite a pickle! This morning Jujutsu Journal received EXCLUSIVE footage of her in various intimate positions with models Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori! Rumor has it these two are already booked and busy. Meanwhile, it looks like this Public Relations manager may soon be booted and broke! Want to see the tape? Click here to sign up for exclusive members only access!

The pieces begin to connect, your mind flashing back to just last night. The camera is right where you left it the night before. Well, where Utahime left it. But when your fingers push the button to open the tape cartridge, you find it empty. All the footage from the night before is gone! You feel like you may faint. All these years of being so careful, at least twenty steps ahead. All the progress you’ve made…gone.

And not just that! Now there’s a sextape of you three floating around the internet! Is that why Utahime was fumbling around with the camera? Why Shoko went out of her way to distract you? So that she could buy Utahime time to turn the camera on and hit record? Is that why they showed so much interest in you in the first place? Everything is beginning to make more and more sense, while simultaneously making less and less sense. You’re so confused.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Your phone buzzes. You’re scared to look, but you know you should.

“What…the…fuck…” You still can’t believe this is happening. To you of all people.

Your eyes see the name light up on your screen. It’s your boss.

Quite literally the bane of your existence, and the woman of all your festering, maddening desires.

It had to be karma you thought, you both had been disqualified as single skaters due to… a night gone wrong really on both of your sides, so of course the universe would slap you two together saying you could only compete in the Olympics together if you did it as a pair. And it just had to be the person you had history within the form of your faces plastered all over news sites and gossip blogs that caused both of your disqualifications and the reason you held some sort of grudge over the woman. A grudge and a crush, you groaned internally, remembering the headlines and picture that had almost plummeted your skating career.  

It was New Years Eve, and a party at the famous idol Iori Utahime’s place was where you had both been that night. You and Yuki knew each other before of course, it came with competing against one another in the same sport, and when there was two girls opposing each other there was bound to be a rivalry born between the two. A rivalry with some sort of sexual tension in-between since every time you seen the woman you either felt like shoving her into the nearest wall and/or making out with her in the process and given the way she looked at you at times you wondered if she felt the same. And of course, it was like everyone said, drunk words were sober thoughts.

She was drunk, you were drunk, and your feelings seemed to get in the way after you moped to her about scores and then next thing you knew you two were breast to breast kissing each other. You could still taste her – strawberry flavored lip gloss painted on those lips as she ran her tongue along your bottom lip, your own chasing the phantom sensation as you recalled the endorphins a mere kiss sent you into. You were too inebriated to notice the flash of multiple phone cameras, but not too intoxicated to remember the way her mouth felt against yours and how bad you wanted her.

After you two split ways at the party, and then the next morning you were getting phone calls and text messages from your manager and PR team full of Twitter links and websites to blogs with that fucking picture of you and Yuki lip locked and completely ignorant of the world around you both. After that, it was all either a bunch of grown ass men sitting on their couches calling for yours and Yuki’s disqualification on Twitter, or it was people making edits of you and Yuki together and even coming up with a ship name for you both – like you were just people for their entertainment. And it was completely quiet from you or Yuki contacting each other at all.

(Until you got paired together, and you had to fight the urge to tackle her for another hot kiss every time you both practiced your lifts and jumps together.)

It left you feeling… hollow, but also pretty fucking annoyed because who kissed someone like that with so much passion and then ghosted them? It was whatever, and you stayed off of Instagram, Tik Tok, and Twitter from the advice of your PR team until you got word of your qualification in the mixed pairs competition. It was like a sick joke; first they condemned you for kissing her, and then they were shoving you together in a rather intimate and graceful routine in such a beautiful sport… Yeah, you supposed there and then you were at your downfall.

And that left you where you were at that moment, tying your skates on securely in the locker room as you prepared yourself for your upcoming show and probably quelling any insane need to kiss Yuki if you both got an outstanding score. Because regardless of your feelings, you both were amazing skaters.

You tapped your heel onto the floor, the blade of your skate clicking as you tested out its overall sharpness the moment Yuki entered the room. You hummed underneath your breath as you sat on the bench while trying to discreetly ogle her without her noticing, noting the sleek black outfit with sequined sides did absolute wonders for her legs. She was one of the few that liked to wear outfits with pants, and you’d only see her skate a few times in the skirts, but in your pair Yuki was the one lifting you she assumed a more covered form while you got to show of your legs in the white ensemble for the routine you two picked.

The smile she graced you with made you bite your cheek, her form coming to sit down next to you as you switched to breathing through your mouth to avoid her sweet perfume. “You nervous?” Yuki asked after a moment, letting you watch a lock of her hair slide off of her shoulder and close enough to touch your own.

Nervous was an understatement, yet you were not nervous thinking you two would do bad, more you were nervous being alone with Yuki.

You blew out a long breath, straightening your legs as you looked at your feet rather than her eyes, “I wouldn’t call it that.”

“Oh?” her head tilted in your peripheral vision, “And what would you call it?”

Sexual attraction. “Stress, maybe. Or embarrassment could work too,” you lied through your teeth, and perhaps the only time you had lied to her in your life. Even that day she walked up to you and asked you what was your type in men was you had straight up told her you weren’t attracted to men at all. The surprise on her face was palpable, but you wouldn’t ever forget the way Yuki’s eyes lit up and a slow smile spread across her face.

She hummed low in her throat, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned into the lockers behind her, “C’mon, what’s too be embarrassed about?’

“You don’t see what they say about us?” you grumbled, not like it necessarily bothered you, but more you couldn’t stand one kiss being attached to your name constantly.

Yuki laughed, “Who cares? What we did isn’t any of their business, and if anything else happened it still wouldn’t be their business.” She said it all so nonchalantly there was no reason you didn’t believe her, however, some of her words struck a chord inside of you. More of the carnal desire than anything else.

“’If anything else happened’?” you parroted back to her, finally turning your head towards her and meeting her eye for eye, “What? You think one kiss proves anything?”

A slow smile spread across her face, the glint of her lip-gloss making you lose focus for a moment to stare at her lips before you met her eyes again. “Of course not, I think it was a start though.”

“A start to what? The new and improved version of Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding?” A snort left your chest at the thought because no matter the rivalry you’d never find it in you to wish ill upon Yuki. Quite the opposite actually.

A sigh tickled your ears, Yuki’s body scooting close enough so that you were hip to hip and thigh to thigh with each other, “Y’know what I think? I think that’s not all that’s bothering you,” she paused to assess your body language and seeing no apprehension within you she continued with a sad smile, “I wanna ask you something.”

A million things ran through your mind at that moment, ranging from whatever she could possibly ask you or if she was going to tell you that she no longer wanted to compete any longer and dropped out last minute. However, regardless of the oncoming doom your brain was festering out of paranoia you couldn’t not hear her out. Though you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, nodding to her in fear you’d make a fool and stutter instead.

She blinked slowly, and you watched her pupil dilate when she reopened her eyes to look at you, “All those… moments between us, and I know that you know what I’m talking about…” Yuki’s gaze softened, and her fingers curled into her palms, “Did they mean something to you?”

You knew what she was talking about. All those moments between you two at practices, the way her hands rested on your waist (and how good it felt for your touch-starved soul), how she lifted you and put you down with so much gentleness you couldn’t help but think she harbored some softness for you, or maybe in your shared hotel room just the night before when you took turns nursing a bottle Vodka to help get rid of those nerves for the competition. You could remember the melodious octave of her laugh when you almost busted your ass trying to get the bathroom the night before, and when you’d been drunkenly trying out a Lutz jump without any momentum or ice.

There wasn’t anything denying how well you two could bounce off of each other, but more your pride getting in the way of allowing yourself some flexibility.

You swallowed, trying your best not to let your emotions show on your face, “The company of a new friendship? Maybe…” you lied, and even as you said it you watched the recognition flit across her face.

“That’s not what I meant.” A soft laugh made your face burn, your knees knocking together as you fought off the chills it brought. “I think I should apologize actually; all the mixed signals and teasing I did, I was only trying to see if all that attitude was hiding something else.”

Your face must’ve taken on an insane expression, Yuki’s laugh bouncing off the walls at your reaction to her confession as you tried to remain as nonchalant as possible, “So you were testing me?”

“I mean, there’s a reason why I didn’t listen to my publicist.” You felt her shrug, and your heart skyrocketed. “I don’t think I can stand staying away from you too long, almost like I’m obsessed with you really. I stopped seeing you as just my opponent a long time ago too.” Yuki’s voice had taken on a lower tone, like honey dripping into your body and your muscles molding into mush the more she spoke to you like in your ears and kept giving confession after confession.

Your heartbeat was a drumming in your head, your own blood rushing loud enough you were able to hear it with your own ears, and the nerves in your body suddenly lit ablaze when you realized the gravity of her words. Every parasitic worm in your body that screamed for the touch of Tsukumo Yuki awoke and your soul screamed for the woman so close to you. And it must’ve shown on your face as she smiled and her eyes shot down straight to gaze at your mouth.

“Y’know,” Yuki drawled out slowly, an unmistakable deepening in her voice that shot straight into your lower abdomen, “if you want something, you should go ahead and take it…”

The invitation in her eyes was loud and clear, and the way she leant back into the lockers behind her and legs opened for you. You wasted zero time at the sultry look within her eyes, practically launching yourself forward onto her mouth as she laughed before your lips met. The kiss didn’t feel as sweet as the one that night on New Year’s Eve, but she tasted all the same to you. That time you both were all teeth clacking against each other, saliva intermingling with your tongues, and nails finding themselves into part of each other that you could reach. You supposed the syrupiness of Yuki’s taste was the foundation of your attraction to her, and the near animalistic way you two went at each other was the core of it all.

But whatever it was, you decided then and there you would never be able to get enough.

Yuki lips broke away from yours with a ‘smack!’, pushing you away as she dropped to her knees onto the floor in front of you, “Let me taste you.”

You held zero objections, carefully swinging both legs over her shoulders as you hurriedly fought to get your leotard off and down enough so that her mouth could find you. The kisses and bites on your thighs you knew you’d have to cover up in some sort of way, but you didn’t care for the moment, not when her lips and tongue seated themselves along where you yearned for her most and your eyes immediately rolled in the back of your head with a loud, keening moan following after.

Yet, a manicured hand covered your mouth with two of her fingers slipping in to keep you busy as you felt her laugh against your pussy. You got the message clear: You didn’t need the media finding you both in an even worse position. However, you were eager enough to slide your tongue along her fingers, moaning and sighing against her hand as her tongue swirled atop your clit and your head banged against the lockers behind you. You were careful enough not to slice her with the blades on your skates, keeping your hands curled into the bench you sat on to not fuck up her hair as you began to jerk your hips into her face in tune with how her mouth moved.

Your brain was slowly turning into goo then, only thinking of how fucking good it felt to have her tongue-deep in your pussy. Your neck rolled around as you nearly felt like denting the bench in your hands when the weight in your lower abdomen grew larger and harder, with your thighs beginning to shake once more when her nose rubbed along your sensitive clit.

Your bones were turning soft and moans growing louder as Yuki’s enthusiasm grew tenfold as her hold on your hips doubled down to almost bruising and you started to hear her breathing become labor. She was enjoying just as much as you were, and the thought sent a solid curl downwards to where your anticipated release grew in wave tides.

Already, you were close

The sinful lips that been mouthing away at the entirety of your cunt broke off once more taking her tongue with as you heard a deep, harsh breath and a low ‘Mmm’, before her mouth was latching back onto your clit to suck at it once again. Your back arched deeper then, mouth parting in a soundless wail as your hands left the bench to grip her shoulders. Your nails dug into her leotard, letting you hear a moan vibrate against your pussy, her ministrations nowhere near letting up as she continued you pull down into the paradise that was bliss personified with only her skilled mouth.

You could hear the noises of your drenched cunt then, the squelching growing louder as you rocked onto her face faster. Yuki didn’t seem mind just how much of your juices were pouring out of you, lapping them up like a woman starved and not even caring if it was messing up any of the show makeup on her face. You pulled your legs closer to you, in return forcing her face more into you as you wondered if you were practically beginning to face-fuck her as your grinding increased the longer she was eating you out.

Your head rose as your chest heaved and you took a peek at just what lied in between your thighs. But of course, the woman of your dreams that laid there had felt you move and her eyes were already straight onto yours as she sent another harsh suck at your clit. Watching her suck at your clit was one thing, however, her dark intense eyes already peering into yours when you looked up for just a glance sent something completely mind-blowing straight into your entire soul.

You fell back, your eyes rolling back into your head as the dam inside of you was at its breach.

It’s right there, there, ther – Fuck!

Your hips rolled faster, harder.

Yuki’s lips pulled and sucked faster, harder.

Your mind was only on Yuki as your back arched in a near horrifying backbend and your fingers knotted into her outfit more. Another moan vibrated your entire cunt and your legs constricted more as they began to roughly shake with another pornographic moan falling out your mouth she quickly covered up. The pressure in you was too large to ignore then, spine tightening as you sought relief for it and when Yuki’s lips pulled off your clit and her entire mouth was back on your cunt with her tongue pressing back into and her nose pushing in the absolute most direct, right way on your clit –

The stretching sensation inside of you snapped, and you were gone.

Thankfully Yuki was smart enough to cover your mouth the moment you two got busy, because you were sure from how loud you were with your mouth muffled security would be busting down the damn door thinking the worst from your moaning (or something entirely different). You could practically feel yourself jerking and squirming as the orgasmic bliss slowly began wane out of you and left your cunt and clit throbbing in the aftershocks of it. As your muscles relaxed and you tried to slow your heaving breath down, Yuki coaxed you through the burst of your release, her tongue lapping away at you and gently licking to bring you down from that powerful high. 

It was a few moments before you blinked into clarity and your back fell back down as did your hips, heart loud in your ears and thumping against your ribs, as you realized what you had done. “Oh shit.” You were never going to get Tsukumo fucking Yuki out of your mind.

Yuki pulled away with a smug grin, nails digging into your thighs as she tugged you further down and onto her mouth with a mumble, “We got at least ten more minutes. Besides, you said you were stressed.”

Then and there, you decided Tsukumo Yuki was your downfall.

      He'd seen you in more and more of Gojos' IG posts over the last year, untagged. Assuming you were just a Gojo girl who wanted to be around for the perks of a wealthy socialite, He never asked to be introduced. But he did ask your name.

  A simple "Her face looks familiar" was all it took for Gojo to share not only your name and social media but also your profession, the university you were attending to get your degree, marital status, the name of your cat, and the fact that you lived in the US. Satoru loved to talk, thank goodness.

'Is that a Zenin? Tch'. A picture of you sitting in Naoya's lap, hand gripping your under thigh, sat on his dimmed screen. Maybe you had a reason for being seen with scumlike Naoya, but it wasn't a reason Kento wanted to know about. The following post was a brunch photo. A group of ladies with Gojo in the center. 'Keeping better friends. Smart girl.'. You were an enigma that brought him closer to the brink every time he saw your million-dollar smile.

His thoughts always started so pure before he thought about you in his bed, the strapless dress you wore in a photo captioned "Shawty got that dress on so the block is hot again" on his floor while at the same time, giving you the meanest strokes for teasing him this way. Thank heavens for the photos. Kento decided a throwaway Instagram account to like the posts and to look at your story would be brighter. Admiring more stealthily, he can at least fantasize about a life with you now that 'RateUp7_3' exists.

So put together. Every story or post included a bright smile or smolder in clothing that made him envy how they hugged your shape. Hair is always in its perfect, coiled natural state while you sit between Gojo and Geto or sit in their lap like some trophy. Satoru hugged you differently. Well. You were the only woman he seemed to hug in these photos. "Interesting," Nanami noted, something he should reanalyze when he has more time.

He pocketed his phone, realizing he had made it to his destination.

A small welcoming committee stood with broad smiles as they greeted HRH Crown Prince Kento. Bowing his head, taking the little book that was handed to him and began to look over the itinerary. "Busy week ahead! Your grandfather is waiting for you in Minato City." With that, his courtier, Ino, began to give him details for the coming week.

      Thanks to Gojo's extraordinary +1 privileges, you found yourself amid a private Gala he was obligated to attend. The champagne-colored satin gown, a cascade of elegance, draped your figure, accentuating the rich hues of your skin. A sight that could only be described as divine.

He broke off after briefly greeting Gojo, Geto, and others you weren't familiar with. He made his way to you near the bar, Easily making it seem like he was making his rounds to guests.

  "Good evening"

"Hello! You're Satoru and Suguru's' friend, right?" you inquired.

"I wouldn't say friend to Gojo. He's more like a gift with a purchase. But yes, I'm Ken."

  Giggles turned into a laugh once you both looked back over at Gojo, eating mini cupcakes, and Geto looking at him with concern.

Your laugh. It was the sounds of the heavens welcoming him to the golden throne. You snorted, and the resolve Kento had was officially withering.

"He's an interesting guy. I met him at a show I walked in a little over a year ago. Before that, he slid into my DMs and even sent me a pie to get my attention."

Kento didn’t think he could be jealous. That's for people who weren't self-assured. And he was very, very sure. Yeah, he's a man, but he's very strong-willed. No no. Not jealous. But this whole pie thing-

"Did it work?" Abruptly speaking. "The pie, I mean."

"Well, I'm talking to you right now. So what do you think?"

Kento exhaled a laugh, pushing back a strand of hair before looking over to you.

"He is a friend. A very good one. Always reliable"

"I've seen him in his element. He is indeed." sipping your cocktail, looking at him as you do.

"You mentioned walking in a show. Are you a model?" if you wanted to lie, it would've been a shame. He's already gone to see that your latest Savage Fenty ambassador collab dropped two days before you arrived in Japan. You looked ravishing in that fervently floral number.

"I am. I primarily work with small houses and on-the-rise designers. But that's how Satoru and I met. He was a guest model for FroviàGalón last season. It was a big hit. We've been working most shows together ever since."

This man could have any woman he wanted; He was Nanami family royalty. Handsome, smooth without even trying. He could buy a country with the proper connection if it mattered. But Gojo sending you a pie and practically being your purse dog makes him feel something. He was feeling jealous over a stupid pie and that white-haired imbecile. The slow unraveling because you snorted and the image of you spreading to show your glistening, plump, wet-

"The boy just loves to be in people's faces. He's one of the girls when we're out, so it's always a good time". Jealousy piques his nerves, and he notices your eyes trailing back to Gojo and Geto.

"He does enjoy good times."

"Speaking of, you plan on going to his after-party?" Innocence in your tone.

"After party? Of course, he finds that fitting for after a Gala."

His gaze lingered on your mouth, licking the remnants of the salted rim as you held the glass close to your body. The perfect honey-hued gloss with a hint of a shimmer. ’Her lips trailing down my chest, tongue lightly leaving a wet trail before swirling over my nip-‘

"You should come! I don't do parties, but since I'm on holiday, why not enjoy it?" the silky pep in your voice was going to be the death of him.

"I will consider it."

Get it together, Nanami.

Before he could offer to get you a drink, an older gentleman who looked very similar to Kento waved in his direction.

"I have to get going, unfortunately. But it was a pleasure meeting you. I.. don't know your name."

You tell him, smiling and holding your hand out.

"It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Ken. Hope to see you later tonight." He kissed your hand before walking off.

"Oh! And Bavarian cream."

"I'm sorry?" Confused, Kento turned back to you slightly.

"For the pie. I like Bavarian cream pie."

He smiled, turning away. "Fucks sake." He huffed, and his waistband was doing more work than anticipated tonight.

You made your way to the elevators, Gojo and Geto catching up as Geto wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.

Kento watched you intently as he stood with his family. Saying goodbye to other guests was the least of his concerns when the swaying of your body had his mind completely occupied. Getos arm causing a severe problem for him as it sat right at your ass.

5… 4… 3… breathe Kento

He continued to make small talk with the guest, smiling as you three got into the elevator, doors closing, and his heart racing.

  It was like Gojo needed to learn how to have a small party. His penthouse, one of many, was now an entire club. A spacious dance floor, an open bar, and a dessert bar because that man wasn't touching a drop of alcohol. But a slice of Black Forest cake? Different story.

With an area roped off, you headed through the crowded floor in that direction.

  "There's my girl!" Shoko stood first, taking the cigarette out of her mouth before hugging you tightly. "How are you, doll face?"

"Better now that I've seen you, babe."

“I'm glad you decided to show up over an hour late." Gojo chimed in, an overdramatized look of annoyance on his face while pulling you to sit beside him.

"Toru. You know me. I'm not wearing the same fit to an after-party, bookie. Your girl had to get cute and comfortable."

"And a pair of Versace platforms is comfortable?" Geto questioned, sass embedded in his tone with a smirk.

"Exactly. I knew you'd get it, SuguPoo." the group laughed.

"Suguru, she's a Versace and Moschino model now. Those platforms are nothing", Satoru closed in, a cheeky smile spreading across his face as he handed you a drink.

Your cheeks got warmer as he mentioned your latest gig. You had officially made your mark. You were now standing as one of the few black curve models to walk one of the major fashion houses, getting the gig with pure talent. "Oh, baby. The way I wasn't expecting to hear back after my little rant about fashion house politics. But who could say no to this body?" You ran your hands down your hips and lightly smacked your rear, pulling playful howls from Shoko and Gojo while Geto laughed, shaking his head at your antics.

"Come on, let's give our faves show. I've missed you!" Gojo grabbed your hand, leading you to the dance floor. Shoko and Geto sat back to watch with their drinks in hand.

Kento watched and waited until you left the area, hands finally relieved of the clammy feeling they had for the last hour. Trying to restrain the hard-on you gave him once he saw the tight dress you changed into, he slipped into the bathroom to wait you out.

Nanami joined them the moment you left the section.

"Where've you been?" Shoko questioned harmlessly.

"Was just talking with some old acquaintances. I was trying to get back to you guys."

"Your detail giving you some breathing room tonight?" Geto pointed with his chin to the security guard he was used to seeing with Nanami, in far less inconspicuous attire than usual.

"You could say that. Didn't want to kill the mood."

    It was as if the music slowed when Kento's gaze approached you. The dance floor was packed, but he knew where you were—dancing with Satoru, who he wished to flick away so you could be all over him instead.

The way your body was swaying, generous ass moving against Gojo to a very poor mix of Pour It Up by Rihanna. You made it worth sitting through an awful set if it meant seeing how you grind on literally anything. The short, amber-colored dress showed the ample flesh he felt so desperate to grip onto. ' If you could just sit in my lap so I could hold you up as I give you every fucking inch of me.’

"I'm gonna step out for some air." Kento stood up, grabbing his gin and tonic, not looking back to see if Geto or Shoko heard him.

  Outside, he leaned against the railing. The late-night weather was welcoming. The faint almond scent from the trees wafted past his nostrils pleasantly. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply, leaning into the comfortable breeze against his skin.

Every bit of contact he'd had with you that day felt like a tiny gesture of sweet love. How your supple skin felt under his lips when he kissed your hand. Your laughter was a healing potion. He left the comfort of his estate to see a woman who made him weak just by snorting. You were the beautiful, intelligent woman who was friends with Gojo and Geto. Under 6 hours of finally experiencing your perfection in person without a barrier and he couldn't fucking breathe without his constricted dick throbbing. So many people had access to you and he wanted to know you better than they did. He wanted to be to only one with that access. You were a need. Needing you beside him, on top of him, under him, “I want to hear you same my name while I sing yours like a praise to the heavens. My angel. My everything”

    He brings the glass to his mouth, finishing the watered-down gin drink.

The sound of heels approaching brought him back to earth. "Having fun?" His angel came into view as he opened his eyes.

"More or less. It seems like you're having a blast." The shimmer of your lip gloss kept his eyes on your lips longer than he intended.

"For sure. Satoru is always my dance partner when we're out together."

"That happens often?"

"Eh. When I'm visiting here, only when Suguru doesn't feel like it. So very often."

Kento offered the space next to him as you both snickered. Standing by him, he finally saw your beauty under the moonlight. Everything about you was like an awakening. Flawless, gentle, soft.

A few moments of silence passed before you spoke. "You know, you should do a better job of staring from across the room if you were trying to be lowkey."

Your words stun him, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth as he stands up straight.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by any means."

"I'm not uncomfortable. I wouldn't have come out here if I was."

Relief shows as the wrinkles in his forehead relax. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Maybe I'm delusional, but your eyes followed me most of the night."

"Not delusional. But, to be clear. I find you incredibly attractive."

Your cheeks were now warming as his brown eyes looked for yours. "I'm flattered.”

"Can I buy you a drink? Preferably at a quieter locale?"

"Are you asking me out, Ken?"

"I wouldn't subject you to a drink as a first date."

Your smile glowed a bit more as he placed his hand on your lower back, making your way to the closest exit with him.

"We can discuss a proper date during the drinks. I am a gentleman, after all."

"Show me the way then, Ken."

"So hotel stays are your usual choice when you're here?"

Trying to keep your balance, you wrapped yourself around Kento's arm while you walked down the corridor from the bar.

“50/50. I grab a hotel if I get in too late or stay at one of Toru's places if I tell him in time. I'll be doing that in the morning once I check out."

'Toru? We will have to talk about these nicknames.'

"Well, I hope I was pleasant enough company this evening."

"You're fun, Ken," your voice echoed as you approached the elevators. "You are quite the man, and I had a great time getting to know you."

"It's been my pleasure. You are captivating and have my attention." The energy was refreshing for you both. He wasn't another menace from your DMs. A philanthropist finance guy was rare—a gentleman with a gentle disposition.

You stopped, going to balance against the wall, bending over to take off your heels.

"Here, let me."

"It's alright, I got it." you persisted, with no progress.

"Darling, you're missing the strap of the heel. I insist." You giggled and watched as he bent down on one knee to unfasten the dainty strap, removing the heels from your feet as you held onto his shoulders for support. A heat rushed to your ears as you felt how delicate he was being with you.

"Ken, you are indeed a godsend."

Nanami carried your shoes as he led you into the elevator, holding it open. "Which floor are you on?"

“30th,”

He hit the floor number and went to lean against the back wall. You stood in front of him, eyes on his exposed collarbone.

Noticing your unsteadiness, he stepped forward and carefully placed his hands above your waist.

"Easy. You okay?"

With your heart racing at 1000 miles an hour, you could only nod.

* Floor 4*

You leaned forward, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself. Cedarwood and alcohol on his breath. Your eyes met his with a shared feverish desire as you peered up. You were buzzing now from the proximity.

*Floor 9*

You don't know how your hand went from his chest to gripping his neck, nails running through his undercut, but it happened before you got to floor 20, where he stopped the elevator.

"Ken.. please,"

His large hands gripped your thighs, lifting one of your legs to wrap around him. Your dress was already short, now hiking up as he pressed his thick bulge into your inner thighs.

"Please.. please say my name again." He grinds himself into you, pang of desire in his voice, breath tickling your ear as you wriggle your hand between you both to unbutton his shirt from the top.

"Ken. Nngh, shit. Ken.. I need you."

Lips finding purchase on your neck, nipping at any skin he could sink his teeth into. The pads of his fingers run down your panty-covered slit. A shiver went through you as he circled at your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Fuck! Please, Ken."

"Please, what, darling? Use your words for me." His voice grew gruff as he felt you trying to grind against him.

"Please make me cum for you,"

“You want to make a mess for me. You want to be a slut in this elevator?” The patronizing voice made you whimper as the sound of Kento ripping your thin panties jilted you, his middle finger sinking into you deeply. A deep moan was all you could muster as his thick digit pumped into you, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders as he kept you pressed against the elevator wall. "Keeennnn. Fuck”

"All that for me, princess? Your cunt this wet all for me?" He curled his thick finger inside, finding that soft, sweet spot that made your knees buckle. "Looking at my hands while I drove. Playing innocently with them while you sat beside me in the booth." Talking through his teeth, he brought his weight against you, keeping you up as he aimed to make you beg before the elevator automatically began to move again. "beautiful, plump cunt was begging to have my fingers fill you. Is this it? Hm? Is this what my princess needed?"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes! P-please don’t stop." You were desperate for release. The sloppy noises of your wet cunt filled the elevator as he relished in the slippery sensation. Brushing his lips to yours, Kento languidly slid his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them his tongue over yours while his grunts grew louder—a string of saliva connected you, a shared fervid look as the elevator dinged.

His hand was soaked, but he couldn't let this be where he gave you an orgasm for the first time. Letting your leg down, he brought his hand to your mouth, running his fingers covered in your essence on your lips.

"When we get to your room, you are mine. All of you." The hungry determination in his eye didn’t leave room for question; you were to be devoured.

The sun was like a death ray as the bright rays and the constant buzzing nearby awakened you.

"Ken," you rolled over to see him lying on his back, bite marks and glitter across his chest.

"Mm," his groggy tone, letting you know he was only halfway listening.

"Ken. Please get your phone. That shit is going nonstop."

"Sorry, angel"

He groaned as he moved, kissing your shoulder gently. You kissed his lips as he reached over you to the bedside table. The vibrations didn't seem to have an end in sight.

"No one should need me this early. I should have an open schedule."

Opening the first text in his sights, he begins to read, stomach sinking as he clicks the link Gojo sent.

"Ken, you okay? "

Nanami sat his phone down, trying to keep his composure. He knew he had to prepare you for the whirlwind of a nightmare that was to come. For you, at least. He didn't have to take the drastic measures he originally planned to have you, at least.

This may be good. No more admiring outside of your photo shoots. No more trips with just Satoru and Suguru to islands. He would be your comfort; you'd be by his side only. This incident could be the beginning of a whirlwind romance. That is different from how he would've done things. But he could soothe this over eventually.

"Before I say anything, just know I will do everything possible to keep you comfortable. Okay?" the sincerity in his eyes had you. You nodded as you looked down at his phone, eyes widening as you read the now-trending story.

“Kento? What the fuck is this? Prince!?”

thanks to the lovely @/saradika for the dividers <3

banner featuring art from @/narutoss_ramen! please go check them out!

Naoya hates the rain.

Even in the summer months it’s less refreshing to him and more of a nuisance- sticky, damp, and everywhere. It pitters and soaks into his clothes and he would have brought an umbrella- if this was a place where anyone cared about getting rained on.

It's not.

The hotel is dingy and not worthy of the sad little three star review rating it managed to gain. The pavement he steps over is cracked, and the entrance he steps through is worn. Whatever. It suits his needs, even if it makes his clothes stink. He’d never get recognized in this part of town.

He gives the front desk clerk a cursory glance- feeling snide at the state of his wrinkled shirt and miserably nonchalant disposition. Naoya doesn’t have to check in, nobody does here. But he drops cash on the desk and keeps walking, not caring if it’s too much or too little.

You had already texted him the room number. He wonders if a place like this even has an elevator.

He turns down the hall and is only mildly surprised to find that there is, indeed, an elevator, despite this place only having three stories. It’s got trace amounts of rust. It squeals when the doors slide open.

He glances at his watch, tapping the screen to pull up your text. 36. He scoffs to himself. You and your third floors. Something about feeling unsafe on the first floor, which is stupid. He’s never understood that about you.

He finds the room quickly, ignoring the fact that as he gets closer, his collar feels tighter. It’s been too long since he’s seen you. He swears he can smell your perfume over all the mildew in the disgusting sixty year old hallway carpet. The perfume was his choice, of course. A birthday gift. You had almost refused it, saying that you don’t take gifts from clients and blah blah blah. He’s not one to look a horse in the mouth, so he had made you suck his cock to earn it. It does smell good on you.

He knocks quickly, six short thuds on the door. He doesn’t bother to try the handle, he knows it’s locked. He gives a quick glance at the hallway around him when he hears the door unlock, and watches the handle turn.

“Mr. Zenin.” You greet him with a graceful smile. He rolls his eyes and walks past you into the room, not wanting to linger in the hallway.

“You’re late,” you accuse sweetly. “A half hour late, to be precise.”

“Put it on my tab.” He grumbles. You just smile, approaching him and helping him out of his coat just how he likes, smoothing your hands out over his back as you do. You hook the coat over the crooked little hanger that juts out of the wall, looking stupidly bespoke on outdated wallpaper.

He takes a seat unceremoniously in the faded pink chair sitting opposite the bed.

“This place is a dump.” He says. He eyes your clothes- pink and flowy, opaque but not thick enough to hide your shape. It flows over you like water, and his collar feels tighter. You smile gently and walk over to press your palms into his shoulders from behind.

“Dumps keep secrets.” You murmur. His hair smells good. You press your face to it and kiss him gently.

“Far cry from Aman,” He complains, reminding you of the hotel you had met each other in, all the way across the world.

“God, I haven’t thought of that place in years,” You run your fingers in the dips of his collarbones, laughing gently, “You were the only sober one at that party, stuck out like a sore thumb.”

“And you were the only whore not hanging off a man’s neck.”

“What can I say?” You undo the top few buttons of his shirt to expose his skin to your warm touch, “I’ve got… refined tastes.”

He hums. His watch dings once but he doesn’t bother to check it. He runs a hand over his jaw, reminiscing of how you had looked in that party room, full of investment cucks and coke addicted businessmen and glittery, shimmering whores. You seemed to almost glow under the dim lights, alone, calling to him with your gaze.

He sighs.

“Long day?” You ask.

“Long month.” He mutters bitterly. “You didn’t return my calls.”

“I was on vacation.” You dig your fingers into his trapezius soothingly, finding the spots that make him melt gooey like butter.

“Since when do whores take vacations?”

“Since filthy rich married men started paying them extra.”

He snorts. He reaches up and grabs your hand, pressing his mouth to your warm fingertips.

“Did you miss me?” You ask playfully, ducking your head to giggle in his ear, “Or did you miss my-“

You’re cut off when he grabs your face and holds you so he can plant a slightly slobbery kiss on your lips. Your glossy red lipstick smears on his mouth. He has his belt unbuckled by the time he releases his hold on you, but you frown for a moment.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” You had definitely tasted the alcohol on his tongue, but drunk he did not seem. Far from it. He’s looking up at you with an icy clarity.

“I don’t.”

“Mhmm. Does Mrs. Zenin know?”

“You’re a cunt,” he says, but there is no real bite behind it. “A stupid cunt. Suck me off.”

“Is that really what you want?” You snake around the chair, putting yourself in his lap. It’s a bit awkward with the bulky, ugly chair, but you manage to press the very core of you where he's most sensitive. Your hands drift up his chest and rest at his neck, and you lean in to whisper against his mouth.

“You’ll have work for that.” You kiss him gently. “Unless, of course, you can ask nicely for once.”

His mouth pulls into a half hearted sneer but his cheeks glow pink. His eyes meet yours and his pupils are wide and dark and calm, two tiny black lakes.

His silence is his answer.

“You really did miss me,” You murmur sweetly, bringing your hands up to press around his neck, thumbs securely pressed on either side of his windpipe. You press hard. His face slowly goes red. His hips jerk in pavlovian response. You can feel the hard length of him against the curve of your ass, begging to be free of his pants.

He gasps finally, Inhaling quickly through his constricted throat. He doesn’t avert his eyes from yours, looking at you desperately while you grind against him and tighten your grip on his neck even more. His hands grab at the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. He tries to keep his breathing even, but it comes in quick, needy huffs.

“I hope you can be good for me tonight.” You coo. You kiss him. He whines, attempting to chase your mouth when you pull away, but you keep an iron grip on his neck, preventing him from moving more than an inch.

You give him one more hard press into his lap and you can tell he’s already close, and so soon! His eyes are slightly glazed, drool threatening to drip from his open mouth. You'd bet all the money he’s paying you that he’s already leaking if you reached and touched him.

You release him suddenly, rubbing over his shoulders while he gasps for a full breath. He keeps his palms firmly to the chair, resisting the urge to grab you and hold you to him and ruin the ridiculously expensive pants he’s got on.

You slide off his lap and stand to soak in the view- the red streaks chasing over his neck, the tent in his pants.

“Stand up. Clothes off.” You tell him, dropping your robe to the floor. You don’t strip down like he begins to do, instead leaving the matching slip covering your body.

You hum in approval as he removes his shirt, eating up the lovely shape of his body. He’s always taken care of himself, almost obsessively so. His pants are next to go, and then the non descript black briefs.

He averts his eyes as he stands before you, nude. His erection twitches in the cold air.

“Got some tanning done, did you?” You step in and pet over his taught stomach, grazing low to tease him.

“Malibu.” He says, some of that snide returning, “and you could have come with me if you’d returned my calls.”

“I remember that. Some of your twitter fanboys posted about it. I doubt Mrs. Zenin would have appreciated me coming with you on a family trip.”

“Wasn’t really a family trip.” He grits out as you feather over his hips, his thighs, appreciating what a specimen he is. “The boys stayed with the nanny the whole time. And she just-“ he grunts when you reach lower and touch his balls, avoiding his cock alltogether, “She’s a prize tuna, I’ll give her that. Not like you.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s an extra six hundred if you want me to listen to you badmouth your wife. Get on the bed.”

He looks like he's going to say something, mouth parting and brow furrowing. You peer at him warmly, your pupils as blown as his. He closes his mouth, deciding not to say whatever was knocking around in his head, and climbs onto the bed without fanfare.

You watch him closely, enjoying the view of his nude body splayed out and primed for you to play with. He’s flushed everywhere he’s sensitive- his face, his chest, his cock. Without stimulation you see it already going half soft, so you kneel onto the bed over him and place your palm against his head. He gasps and jerks, grabs your wrist but quickly loosens his grip and just holds you there.

“C’mon,” he pleads. Though he’d cuss and whine if you described it as pleading. He ruts himself against your palm, his teeth dig into his lower lip. It's not enough but it’s also too much. He’s always been sensitive.

“You could ask.” You say, knowing he won’t. You pull away and his fingers twitch with the need to take himself in hand.

“You’re a bitch.” He says. “Evil fucking bitch.”

You laugh. It’s a light and gentle thing. He doesn’t think about how nice it sounds.

“You really know how to talk to a lady, huh?” You press on his shoulder, making him lay back fully.

“I can hardly call you a lady.” He’s got a hungry look in his eyes. He looks good laying there- hair slightly ruffled, cheeks pink. It’s a sight you’ve seen a dozen times but you’ll never grow tired of.

He lays still, waiting. He glowers at you while you make him wait. You come up near his head and sling a leg over his neck.

“Maybe this will shut you up.” You hike up the slip you wear and grin down at him. No, of course you’re not wearing anything underneath it. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your thighs and shove his nose into the neat curls there and lick a hot wet stripe into your core.

You’ve been wet and swollen for a while. It’s nearly conditioned. You feel a slight tingle every time he calls you, wanting to see you. Wanting to fuck you. But now you’re soaked, your cunt wetting his face without shame, arching your back when he finds your clit and sucks on it desperately.

You lock your thighs around his head, cutting off nearly all the airflow he would’ve managed to get before. He likes it. You reach behind you and grip the base of him, feeling him twitch and pulse. He suckles on your clit til you’re keening- and right as you squeeze his cock a little harder and your hips jerk a little more desperately, he shifts and his tongue delves deep into your dripping hole, licking and practically drinking you down. You make a choked little whimper, so close to release.

You grab his hair and hold him beneath you, grinding your cunt into his mouth and nose and eating up every muffled noise he makes. His tongue works hungrily, desperate to please you, delving as deep as he can into your cunt and searching out the spots that make you gasp and moan sweetly for him.

He swipes his tongue just right, and you fall over the edge, grunting and whimpering and twitching all over.

You roll over from on top of him and he gasps wildly, hair ruined and mouth wet and swollen pink. He just looks at you as you gain your breath, your insides gooey and warm and pulsing with aftershocks. He gives you a small, coy little smile.

“I guess I’m not the only one who was missing it.”

You shove at him playfully, all pretense falling away for a moment. You sit up to clear your head, not forgetting that he’s still hard, and leaking, and needy.

“Turn over. Hands and knees.” You tell him. His blush returns tenfold. He glances away from you in tentative embarrassment, though it’s obvious that what he’s hoping for isn’t going to be damped by a little thing like shame. He doesn’t have to be a shameful creature with you.

He does as you command, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbows and knees, his back already slightly arched. You’re definitely appreciating the view. He hides his face from you.

“Oh, wow.” You grin. “Smooth as butter, huh?”

“Shut up.” He snaps, his voice muffled by the pillow. You take a moment to really see the view of him- his tight pink hole is smooth and perfect, obviously recently waxed. Or maybe even lasered. You never know with him. You run your fingers over him, light as a whisper, dragging a caress over his cock to his balls and finally to his hole. It twitches. Cute.

“I should take a picture, pretty as you are.” You say. You grab his cheeks in each of your hands, spreading him fully.

He mutters something about our NDA, something about you being a bitch. You don’t really pay any mind as you lean over him and spit out a thick glob of saliva over the tight ring of muscle, making him gasp.

He goes perfectly still In anticipation, his dick jerking with every lick you apply to him. You drag your tongue against his perineum up to his hole- he tastes clean, like only salt. You know he’s obsessive with how he grooms himself. Saliva slowly runs down, leaving a trail of wet across his balls.

You slip your hand under him to grab his length to give him one long, smooth pull, earning a tiny little whimper from him. You plant your mouth fully on his hole, tongue rubbing circles into the muscle. You jerk him off slowly, too slow to ever bring him to completion. He whines and twitches under your touch and you feel a throb deep in your core for the way he’s trembling.

You bring your head away from him earning a slight wet pop as your mouth breaks the seal it had over his hole, leaving your drool to cool on his heated skin. You slide your hand over his cock faster, gathering up his precum to make the slide easier, your grip is intense and tightens more around the base, pulling down and milking him like some breeding stud. His hips begin to move in the air, and the noises he makes, muffled by the pillow, are throaty and low. You know how he sounds when he’s close, how he shakes with the climb, and when he nears his peak you abruptly pull away to deny him. He groans loudly in frustration and need, and finally looks over his shoulder to glare at you, his fucked out expression not hiding his irritation.

“I don’t want you ruining the sheets.” You say. He catches on immediately, sitting up and grabbing you to put you under him. He practically rips the slip from your body, the fabric strains and the stitches pop, pulling it up and over your head so he can press his flushed skin against yours.

You almost protest, you actually did like that dress, but he kisses you with teeth and growls something about buying you a new one. He grabs your breasts roughly and you feel the length of him pillowing itself against your lips. But he doesn’t do more than that, rutting against your cunt and swallowing your noises with his mouth. He whines.

“Naoya,” You say, when your hot tongues part, “Naoya-“

He grabs your hips and positions you perfectly to plunge his aching cock into your slick heat, as desperate as an animal, and just as rough.

The sudden intrusion makes you cry out in pleasure, his thrusts coming in quick, needy bursts. He presses his sweaty brow into the pillow under your head. His hands hold your waist like a lifeline, his need ramming inside of yours, jerking and twitching and hot and wet. He kisses your cervix with every pump, leaving you breathless and needy.

But you know he can’t finish properly like this. You can see it when he pulls back to look at you, his face flushed and his mouth open and drooling. You wind your hands around his throat and squeeze, blocking his air and turning his noises into tiny pathetic gasps and wheezes. It doesn’t take long. His hips stutter and he finally, finally finds what he’s looking for, tipping over and cumming so hard he stops even trying to breathe. You feel every drop of him rush out to paint your insides, his cock throbbing hot within your liquid-warm walls.

You release his throat and he takes a sharp, ragged inhale, his body locking up with the rush of oxygen and endorphins. His cock pulses inside of you again as if his balls aren’t spent completely, and you feel his cum finding its way to the entrance of your hole and spilling out around his length, way too much to be plugged up inside.

“Fuck,” He grunts, “fuck.”

You hum and run your palms up his sides and down his back where you can reach as he pieces his senses back together. He pulls from your core and you hiss in strange pleasure and slight soreness.

He rolls to the side and slumps on the bed, breathing deep and enjoying the afterglow. You wiggle your hips, feeling him leak out of you even more, thick and warm.

You’re both silent for a few minutes. His watch dings right as you turn to touch his chest, his arms, run your fingers over the angry red on his neck.

He glances at it. Groans in pure discontent.

“Work?” You trace his nipple with an idle finger.

“Yes.” He sits up, glancing over the mess of the bed. “I’ve got an eight o’clock tomorrow, apparently.”

“You can’t cancel?” You shift and stretch, not missing how his eyes graze over your body. “You’ve already booked me for twenty four hours.”

“No.” He says, simply. “Obligations… responsibilities… I don’t know, whatever bullshit you want to call it.”

“Do you want a shower?” You lean over and press your smeared mouth to his shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I mean, of course it’s disgusting, but you don’t want to go home smelling like… well, you know.”

Naoya breathes, long and deep. Then he looks back at you.

“You getting in with me?”

A/N: “Tuna” is a term in Japanese hookup culture that can be equated to a ‘pillow princess’ in an extreme sense. There’s nothing wrong with being a pillow princess, but I personally believe it’s not something this Naoya is particularly into.