𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 . . . is aware that predator type hybrid and prey type hybrid relationships are frowned upon in society.

with his ruffled hair that is the same shade of the night sky and his dark, cunning eyes that were made to catch the innocent flutter of a tail in the dark of the snowy woods— choso is nothing short of fear. his ears are tall, a trait from his tundra wolf ancestors and his teeth are glimmering, white, and sharp. despite this, hybrid society has learned how to live happily together, and every night he waits for his little lamb to come home from wherever adventure you had taken earlier that day.

with you, he's gentle. his friends make fun of him knowing he goes entirely soft when he's around you. despite his physical qualities that might make him seem frightening— with you, it's entirely different. you have every reason to run from him, but you dont... and it warms his heart.

there isn't predator or prey, it's only you and him.

"cho," you breathe quietly.

his lips are against your neck, nose pressing into the soft dip of your pulse point as he kisses your skin. choso's body is heavy on yours, pinning your little lamb body down with ease. you couldn't even push him off if you wanted to. you can't do anything but lay there and hold your breath, waiting anxiously to be devoured by your lover.

you feel helpless, helplessly delicious.

"so pretty." he hums, "my little lamb."

"mhm... only yours..." you manage with bated breath.

"mine."

he continues to kiss your neck, groveling in every little sound and whine that comes from your flustered lips. he doesn't miss a spot, making sure to take his time with you. choso's hands run down to your shoulders, very gently sliding off the left strap of your white frilly tank top. even in his most gentle moments, there's something about you below him that wakes his animalistic side. the man wants you for himself to ravish, and he wonders what kind of thrill he would get if he sank his sharp teeth into your lightly freckled skin... hard enough to draw blood. you're so warm, and the way you tremble under his touch makes him eager.

his mind goes into autopilot, and choso has to physically hold himself back from devouring you whole in seconds. his vision clouds with adrenaline— the type that reminds him of an exciting hunt.

let her enjoy this, choso repeats in his mind.

his breath hitches against your skin, and he hangs his head down near your shoulder to bring himself back. foreplay with you is always so dangerous, and so, so tempting. sensing his hesitation, you gently card a hand through his dark locks— as if trying to reassure his urges.

control yourself, choso.

"'s okay, cho..." you murmur against his shell of his ear. your cupid bow tickles the side of his face and nearly sends him into a frenzy...

"i know, my sweet thing... 'js give me a second..." choso pants quietly, shaking off his original needy, primal intention.

after a moment, he begins again— lips lightly dragging against your bare skin. your lover takes a deep breath before peering down at your face. big, innocent eyes blink up at him and he chuckles at the sight.

"now, where was i?"

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔… is the best racer in all of japan.

after winning first place during today's race, that he undoubtedly claimed as his to his fellow competitors before the race even began, gojo and his crew always celebrated his wins with a lavish party and lots of champagne. tonight, he's got an appearance to uphold and sponsors to entertain with charming smiles and friendly conversations. everyone in his crew is here along with some familiar, famous faces that are local to tokyo.

which only meant one thing to him— you, his new personal designer, would definitely be making an appearance too.

you're escorted by two guards through the resort before heading up to the rooftop pool and bar area where the event is taking place. there is music playing—it's classy but loose, nonetheless. there are people making conversation and laughing together, eccentric lighting and the sight of your new colleagues in clean cut button ups and tempting, sexy silk dresses. everyone looks... expensive. your hands come down to your side, adjusting the way your black, glimmering dress hugs your frame— don't be self-conscious. this is a time to make connections. you take a deep breath in and hold it for a second. your heels clack, and you're off to inspect the area.

gojo loves celebrations like these— full of life, party, and luxurious people that are all eager to kiss his ass. he's always been about this lifestyle; it makes him feel like a king.

he's the best racer.

the fastest.

he's lounging with a few executives. adorned in a black suit with an unbuttoned top— he's nothing short of sex and status. he takes a generous sip of his drink, an indicator that it's almost time for him to stop talking to this current crowd of executives and find someone else to talk to (along with a new drink).

meanwhile, you're busy chatting it up with your new colleagues, being sure to greet gojo's manager and sponsors along with his previous designers. being a new hire— you're sure to hold your conversations properly with a humble smile. you laugh softly as they make jokes, glass of champagne resting in your palm as one of his sponsors sweet talks you without even realizing it.

"if you'll excuse me," gojo smiles even if his patience is thinning. he's been eyeing you the minute you stepped into this place.

the journey to get to you is slow, as people keep stopping him to chat or congratulate him on his win, but he makes it. the man stands behind you, gently nudging your champagne glass— gently enough to make you worry that it'll spill. when you turn towards him, he pushes a finger forward, as if to steady the glass once more and make it seem like someone else had bumped into you and he just so happened to help you before it spilt.

"how's my girl?" gojo asks, tone affectionate. his words are laced with a sweet honey... while his eyes are an entirely different story.

he feels... oddly possessive of you.

"gojo—!" you gaze up at him, happy to see his face. you were trying to get out of this conversation for a minute now, and it seems prince charming made his appearance.

gojo gazes at the sponsor that seemed to be talking to you prior to his interruption. a displeased look graces his face and he gazes at the other man suspiciously. ah... how he hates the way they were leering at you. he's eager to sweep you away, but before he can— his sponsor speaks again.

"gojo satoru, if you don't mind, me and this lovely lady were in the middle of a conversation." his sponsor laughs, irritation bubbling under the surface.

gojo peers over at the man. how audacious of these men to ogle his personal designer— his new designer at that.

this bastard.

"the lady has other arrangements."

without another word, the white-haired man guides you away from the crowd to an area made up of couches and lounging chairs. the area is quieter and more secluded compared to the rooftop pool. this lounge area is equally as luxurious, covered by a sheer, glittering maroon curtain. the man leans against the wall, broad shoulders bulging as he drinks in the sight of you in such an outfit.

"i'll be damned," gojo hums. "you look incredible."

"you as well. i'm trying to make sure i make a good impression tonight."

"yeah? having fun so far?" he chuckles. you see your reflection in his eyes.

"i am." you insist, almost giddy.

his hand finds yours, and he helps you into doing a small twirl so he can get a view of the entire dress. you're surprised when he doesn't let go of your hand afterward. he feels dangerously warm— like a temptation, a forbidden treasure you want to touch but you're almost too afraid to.

but god, you want to.

"this whole first impression thing... is it working?" you laugh, seeking the man's approval as he continues to admire you.

"entirely."

gojo lets himself slip for a moment before noticing the flash of a camera in the direction of where the two of you stand alone together. he'll definitely have to address that later. he can't even imagine the headlines. the man understands that these conversations and secluded moments can definitely be damaging to your career and his reputation—

but tonight, temptation asks for his hand to dance.

and he takes it.

"come on."

"where are we going?"

"let's go get another drink."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ create one of you n your angel ! ! -> ❤︎

( no pressure tags ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ ! ! ) @mcdonaldsnumberone @wonuyun @tetzoro @tetsuskei @yunymphs @mlkbwunnies

bunny girl yuyu n cat boy toru join da gamee !! 🐇 thank u for the tag baby , dis is shooo cutesy patootsey !! ૮꒰◌ .๑. ꒱ა‎

he's iconic the moment he steps into the view of the camera. recognized by his pearly white hair and pretty eyelashes that flutter like the wings of an angel. you can find him on the cover of the most recent fashion magazines and internet blogs in japan— he's the hottest topic right now no matter the platform.

the crowd is growing as he pulls up in his sleek silver car, indigo accents shimmering and catching the eyes of everyone around. heads instantly snap in his direction, and some sort of smug satisfaction fills him as he pulls up. it's only natural he feels this way; he just won first place after all. his black gloved hand runs over the wheel before he comes to a stop, revving the engine once before parking and stepping out of the car. he is nothing short of expensive and lavish, a man of high class and charisma. gojo "undefeated winner on the track ever since he started this sorta thing" satoru is a dream, and when he talks, people listen.

you swallow hard as you take in his presence, knees buckling as you try to match the man's confidence.

you— a senior university student who had a day off and decided to check out all the commotion a few blocks down from campus. you were an art student, sketchbook settled in your arms filled with messy graphite sketches of cars and portraits of people that came to these events. you didn't know a goddamn thing about race cars, and you definitely did not know about the hot men that drove them.

too busy in your own world, you miss the way you catch his curious, iridescent ocean eyes.

"you curious, princess? come a little closer. i don't bite." he chuckles, and it takes a moment before you realize he's talking to you.

oh.

oh.

"me?" you ask with widened eyes. there were multiple people around you— and he was referring to you out of all of them? you tilt your head a bit to check if he was talking to someone behind you perhaps.

gojo finds your reaction amusing.

"yeah, you." he confirms, words rolling off of his tongue like a purr. he leans against his car, muscles rippling under his leather race jacket in the shade charcoal. you swallow hard before approaching the man.

"what's your name?" gojo asks out of genuine curiosity. his car shifts as he straightens up a bit in your presence. the man towers over you with ease.

you tell him your name, wondering if the sunlight is making you feel hot under your clothes or if it's just him. you take a nervous breath.

"congrats on winning, by the way." you smile kindly, trying to get as many words as possible out before your throat goes entirely dry.

"and how'd a sweet thing like you know i'd won?" he gives you a cocky little smirk. "you a fan?"

"not necessarily. i'm just a student here in tokyo. i'm designing your next car wrap and working on a new brand for you, and i thought it would be nice to meet the man behind the wheel." you reply with a soft laugh, gazing up at him with something that feels a lot like warm fondness.

"you're a student here?" he tilts his head. "what are you studying?"

"graphic design."

gojo blinks, and you've caught him off guard this time.

"and you're the one designing my new wrap?" he asks, letting it sink in for a moment before he speaks again. "like... a personal designer?"

"something like that." you smile.

"you have no idea how much i'll enjoy having you around."

"do you tell all of your new designers that?" you laugh, trying to avoid the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

"of course not, only you."

before you can respond, a man with long, black hair jogs over, magenta helmet tucked under a strong arm. equally as handsome as gojo himself.

"satoru," the man purrs, gaze catching yours for a second before he turns back to the white-haired man. "time to go mingle with higher ups."

"right now, suguru?" gojo's smile falls a bit. he does have to keep his sponsors happy, much to his irritation. he motions to you with his head, and the black-haired man chuckles.

gojo gives you an apologetic glance; he's not ready to let you go just yet. he doesn't chase anyone or anything, but for you, he was willing to if it meant getting to speak to you a little longer.

"no, no— it's alright. i was heading out soon anyways. it was nice meeting you, gojo." you smile up at him, giving the racer by his side a polite grin as well before departing.

a lazy laugh escapes the white-haired man as you walk away, and that's all it takes for gojo to make up his mind.

he's gonna need you to draw him like one of your french girls.