Lilac ( Kokuzan )

The Winner, The Thief, and Anger

SMUT

King of Hearts.

Ace of Diamonds.

Cum.

Four of Clubs.

Trickles.

Each play was countered, the deck shuffled. Muzan simply sucked, eyes staring at Kokushibou as the penis went deeper and deeper down his throat. All of a sudden, a stream, and a Joker. Trick. Kokushibou had another ace. His hand fitted over Muzan's forehead, pushing his head down into the pillows as he held it down, keeping stability as his hips bucked upwards.

And there it was, a king smashing down. The spray gagged Muzan, causing him to cough. Kokushibou took his penis out of the warm depths of Muzan's mouth.
"Fuck... You." We're the words that leaked out along with a pool of semen. Kokushibou smiled at the immature words, and licked the substance from Muzan's cheek.
"Who knew that all I needed to beat you was a king?" Kokushibou asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Here."

Kokushibou handed Muzan his clothing, fitting it on him gently before returning to his own buckles. Hair tied back, Kokushibou was ready to hit the streets once more.
They still needed to search for the blue spider lily, they just had to take their little... Break.

---

Muzan walked quietly down the streets, hat slightly bent over his face, eyes wondering down the unfamiliar area. Sometimes drunkards would rush past, and then the speakeasies were on their own level of chaos. This place was where heavy pockets would become light. You'd be walking home from work and you'd suddenly wake up naked in a barrel.

It wasn't the nicest thing for Muzan, who prefered unchanging, and the sudden culture change was a lot. The people were strange, confusing, choking on Canadian whiskey.
And then, there was the tall man who bumped into Muzan. He was obviously drunk, running through an alleyway. He laughed, skipping, his eyes seeming like a chameleons as it looked like they were looking at completely opposite directions.

"Excuse me sir-" Muzan was readied to kill, but the man had hurried off before he could finish his sentence.

Perhaps it was simply at that moment, or it was simply a bad day, but Muzan had figured the currency he was carrying had left his possession. It wasn't American, but it was still made of things that could be sold to a pawn shop. A sharp slur left Muzan's mouth.

Someone stole from him? Muzan? The demon king?  Pickpocketed? There was no way. Not him. Not ever. No. Muzan had never felt so pathetic. Demons died for him, and he had gotten pickpocketed by a drunkard in a foreign country. His first instinct was to find Kokushibou, but he didn't want to bother him with something so stupid. The degrading feeling sucked the confidence out of Muzan, turning into an anger.

Anger; it was something Muzan felt most of the time. It could be doused, but it still was there. He could get angry over anything, but, the main thing that enraged him was failure. He'd always start getting irritated and annoyed, like he just needed to hit something, make it feel pain so he could get the emotion out. God. He needed Kokushibou. But then again, it wasn't important enough. Never important enough.

Never.

A/N:

I'm not finished the chapter, not proud of it. I'm going to publish it so far and then update it or make another part soon. Btw, I'm going to go on a lot of long breaks because I'm working through some life things at the moment! I'm so sorry! :⁠,)