Gojo Satoru's Rolls Royce sped silently across the asphalt, the lights of your hometown illuminating the sleek hood. You sat in the sleek black leather seat, your thighs still slightly sore from the wild sex with Satoru, and his cum still dried between your legs, as if leaving an indelible mark. You were back in your black dress, tight at the hips, and those black fishnet stockings you'd worn afterward at Satoru's behest made you feel powerful even though you felt empty inside. The money he'd placed in your hand were numerous, too many, and still warm, folded carelessly between your fingers, as if money at that moment were just a detail, a game.
Satoru drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, those damned blue veins pulsing beneath his pale skin. Every now and then he'd glance at you, with a smug little smile that made your thighs tighten each time.
"Did you like it, baby?" he'd whispered before leaving with the car, and you'd nodded, your cheeks burning, unable to lie. Even so, there was something inside you in that moment you couldn't explain. Screaming Choso's name as he fucked you like a beast.
But it was precisely at that moment that you saw him.
Choso.
He was standing in front of a fancy club; you recognized him because the neon lights cast those fantastic, sharp shadows on his face. He had an arm around the waist of a young girl, too young, with straight black hair that fell to her waist, a sinuous body wrapped in a tight, expensive red dress that left little to the imagination. She laughed, tilting her head back as he whispered something in her ear, her fingers brushing the curve of his breast with a confidence that made you clench your fists.
Your breath caught in your throat.
"Y/n?"
Satoru's voice was low, laced with amusement. "You're all tense. Is something wrong?"
You shook your head, too quickly, your nails digging into your palms.
"No, it's all right."
But the words came out strangled, they were obviously false. Choso hadn't seen you, almost certainly. The girl was smiling again, running a hand over his chest, and the thing that made you feel worse was the fact that he didn't pull her away. It wasn't like he did with you. It was different from when he begged you to humiliate him, to be treated like your own personal trash.
"Are you sure?" Satoru reached out, his fingers grazing your thigh, trailing up under the hem of your dress. "Because if there's something bothering you, I can always distract you."
You swallowed as you continued to watch them. The girl was rubbing herself against him, her red lips parted in a predatory smile, and he was laughing. This wasn't the Choso you knew. This wasn't the man who wrote you desperate messages, who begged you to make him suffer, to make him feel alive only through your contempt.
"Y/n," Satoru's voice sharpened, his fingers closing around your thigh, squeezing lightly. "Look at me."
You obeyed, tearing your eyes away from the scene. He was staring at you, those beautiful blue eyes of his, shining with something more than just desire.
"Good girl."
His fingers moved up, until they touched the moist heat between your legs, and you jumped, a moan escaping your lips.
"See? Just one touch is enough to remind you who owns you."
You didn't respond. You couldn't. Because while he was slowly penetrating you with two fingers, you were still looking at her. The girl with Choso. That girl who wasn't you.
***
The car stopped in front of your building, the engine humming like an expectant animal. Satoru turned it off, along with the lights, and suddenly the interior was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by those yellowish, grimy streetlights filtering light through the windows.
"Come on, baby," his voice was a command, and he removed his hand from your thigh, leaving you trembling. "Come here."
You obeyed, crawling toward him, your knees digging into the leather seat. He grabbed your hair, pulling you toward his face, and his lips crashed against yours with a force that made you moan. His tongue was warm, dominant, and you sucked it greedily, but that image of Choso with that girl wouldn't leave your mind and you hoped to erase it by drowning in Satoru's taste.
"That's it, good girl." He pushed you back, making you lie down on the seat, with your legs spread and your dress rolled up around your waist. "Open up."
He didn't need to ask twice. Your thighs spread, the cool air caressing your already wet pussy and throbbing clit. He leaned down, his hot breath tickling your inner thighs before his tongue licked you from top to bottom.
"Mmm..."
You arched your back, your fingers latching onto his soft, white hair, tugging at it as he devoured you, his tongue slithering inside you and then back up to torture your clit, sucking it between his lips as if he wanted to rip it out.
"S-Satoru…"
His name came out in fits and starts, but in your head, there was only him. Choso. His hands were on someone else. His mouth was on someone else.
"You still think about him, right?"
Satoru looked up, his eyes shining, his lips wet with your juices. "Even now."
You couldn't deny it. He laughed, a dark sound, then buried his face between your legs again, his fingers penetrating you and his tongue mercilessly tormenting you.
"Then imagine it's him."
His words vibrated against your flesh, and you moaned, tears burning your eyes.
"Imagine that asshole licking you like this, making you his. But remember," he gave you a light bite on your clit, "you'll be mine. And that's it."
The orgasm hit you like a punch in the gut, your thighs shaking, and Satoru's fingers held you open as he watched you come, his beautiful face and expression of satisfied lust. "Good." He licked you again, slowly, savoring every jolt of your body. "Now go away. Before I change my mind."
The evening air hit you like a whiplash in the back as you got out of the car, your legs still weak, your dress wrinkled, your makeup slightly smudged. Satoru watched you from the rolled-down window, a smug smile on his lips.
"See you tomorrow. Don't screw up."
You nodded, clutching the bag full of cash inside, the money feeling like boulders. As the Rolls Royce drove away, you stood there, frozen, your eyes burning with anger. Then you turned and began walking toward the building's entrance, your heels clicking on the pavement like a metronome for your racing heart.
But you didn't go in.
You stopped under a streetlight, pulling your phone out of your bag with shaking fingers. Choso's texts were still there, desperate, obsessive. The last one was from a few hours earlier: "Please, Y/n, I need you. I can't take it anymore, not like this."
And then, she came to mind.
The girl with the long hair, the perfect body, the smile he returned... and they seemed like a normal couple, which he wasn't with you.
You typed a message, and the letters seemed to tremble on the screen. "Where are you?"
The reply came almost instantly, as if he on the other end of the phone had been waiting just for that. "To the Rising Sun. Why?"
Your fingers flew. Then you decided not to reply.
You walked quickly toward the club, your dress sticking to you from the sweat, your thoughts racing one by one through your mind. Was it all fake? Why was he with someone else? Who the fuck was that bitch?
***
The Rising Sun was a place you knew very well. Low lights, electro music pulsing through your bones, and that smell of alcohol and sweat mingling with the humidity of the air conditioning. As soon as you walked in, you saw him immediately. He was sitting at the bar, a drink in his hand, the girl from before leaning on his arm, her lips brushing his ear as she laughed at something.
Something in you, however, broke.
You approached, your heels sinking into the worn red carpet, your hands clenching into fists. He looked up at you, and for a second, his eyes widened, as if he hadn't expected to see you. Then his gaze slid over you, possessive, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
"Y/n?" His voice was hoarse, filled with something you couldn't quite decipher. Surprise? "What are you doing here?"
The slut turned and looked at you with black eyes that scanned you from head to toe, a smug smile curving her red lips.
"Oh, so this is the famous Y/n!"
Her voice was sweet, mellifluous, with a hint of venom underneath. "Choso told me so much about you!"
You ignored the pang of pain that shot through your chest. "Really?" You smiled, or at least a grin that didn't reach your eyes. "And what did he tell you, darling?"
Choso cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Y/n, this is Maki. She's…a friend."